et was ever content with such an answer. The more you beg
him not to inquire, the greater is his curiosity to learn the whole.

'Well, if you MUST know,' said the wife at last, 'I will tell you. There
is no luck in this house--no luck at all!'

'Is not your cow the best milker in all the village? Are not your trees
as full of fruit as your hives are full of bees? Has anyone cornfields
like ours? Really you talk nonsense when you say things like that!'

'Yes, all that you say is true, but we have no children.'

Then Stan understood, and when a man once understands and has his eyes
opened it is no longer well with him. From that day the little house in
the outskirts contained an unhappy man as well as an unhappy woman. And
at the sight of her husband's misery the woman became more wretched than
ever.

And so matters went on for some time.

Some weeks had passed, and Stan thought he would consult a wise man
who lived a day's journey from his own house. The wise man was sitting
before his door when he came up, and Stan fell on his knees before him.
'Give me children, my lord, give me children.'

'Take care what you are asking,' replied the wise man. 'Will not
children be a burden to you? Are you rich enough to feed and clothe
them?'

'Only give them to me, my lord, and I will manage somehow!' and at a
sign from the wise man Stan went his way.

He reached home that evening tired and dusty, but with hope in his
heart. As he drew near his house a sound of voices struck upon his ear,
and he looked up to see the whole place full of children. Children
in the garden, children in the yard, children looking out of every
window--it seemed to the man as if all the children in the world must be
gathered there. And none was bigger than the other, but each was smaller
than the other, and every one was more noisy and more impudent and more
daring than the rest, and Stan gazed and grew cold with horror as he
realised that they all belonged to him.

'Good gracious! how many there are! how many!' he muttered to himself.

'Oh, but not one too many,' smiled his wife, coming up with a crowd more
children clinging to her skirts.

But even she found that it was not so easy to look after a hundred
children, and when a few days had passed and they had eaten up all the
food there was in the house, they began to cry, 'Father! I am hungry--I
am hungry,' till Stan scratched his head and wondered what he was to do
next. It was not that he