and went to sleep
quickly and lightly.

When she awoke towards morning, she was violently alarmed, for the
infant had vanished! She sprang from her couch, lighted a pine-torch,
and searched all round about; and, behold, in the part of the bed
where she had stretched her feet, lay, not the child, but a great ugly
frog! She was horror-struck at the sight, and seized a heavy stick to
kill the frog; but the creature looked at her with such strange,
mournful eyes, that she was not able to strike the blow. Once more she
looked round the room--the frog uttered a low, wailing croak, and she
started, sprang from the couch, and ran to the window and opened it.
At that moment the sun shone forth, and flung its beams through the
window on the couch and on the great frog; and suddenly it appeared as
though the frog's great mouth contracted and became small and red, and
its limbs moved and stretched and became beautifully symmetrical, and
it was no longer an ugly frog which lay there, but her pretty child!

"What is this?" she said. "Have I had a bad dream? Is it not my own
lovely cherub lying there?"

And she kissed and hugged it; but the child struggled and fought like
a little wild cat.

Not on this day nor on the morrow did the Viking return, although he
certainly was on his way home; but the wind was against him, for it
blew towards the south, favourably for the storks. A good wind for one
is a contrary wind for another.

When one or two more days and nights had gone, the Viking's wife
clearly understood how the case was with her child, that a terrible
power of sorcery was upon it. By day it was charming as an angel of
light, though it had a wild, savage temper; but at night it became an
ugly frog, quiet and mournful, with sorrowful eyes. Here were two
natures changing inwardly as well as outwardly with the sunlight. The
reason of this was that by day the child had the form of its mother,
but the disposition of its father; while, on the contrary, at night
the paternal descent became manifest in its bodily appearance, though
the mind and heart of the mother then became dominant in the child.
Who might be able to loosen this charm that wicked sorcery had worked?

The wife of the Viking lived in care and sorrow about it; and yet her
heart yearned towards the little creature, of whose condition she felt
she should not dare tell her husband on his return; for he would
probably, according to the custom which then prevailed, exp