are well enough known, of whom songs are sung, and
whose pictures are painted; but concerning the moor woman it is only known
that when the meadows steam in summer-time it is because she is brewing.
Into the moor woman's brewery did Inge sink down; and no one can endure
that place long. A box of mud is a palace compared with the moor woman's
brewery. Every barrel there has an odour that almost takes away one's
senses; and the barrels stand close to each other; and wherever there is a
little opening among them, through which one might push one's way, the
passage becomes impracticable from the number of damp toads and fat snakes
who sit out their time there. Among this company did Inge fall; and all the
horrible mass of living creeping things was so icy cold, that she shuddered
in all her limbs, and became stark and stiff. She continued fastened to the
loaf, and the loaf drew her down as an amber button draws a fragment of
straw.

The moor woman was at home, and on that day there were visitors in the
brewery. These visitors were old Bogey and his grandmother, who came
to inspect it; and Bogey's grandmother is a venomous old woman, who is
never idle: she never rides out to pay a visit without taking her work
with her; and, accordingly, she had brought it on the day in question.
She sewed biting-leather to be worked into men's shoes, and which
makes them wander about unable to settle anywhere. She wove webs of
lies, and strung together hastily-spoken words that had fallen to the
ground; and all this was done for the injury and ruin of mankind. Yes,
indeed, she knew how to sew, to weave, and to string, this old
grandmother!

Catching sight of Inge, she put up her double eye-glass, and took
another look at the girl. "That's a girl who has ability!" she
observed, "and I beg you will give me the little one as a memento of
my visit here. She'll make a capital statue to stand in my grandson's
antechamber."

And Inge was given up to her, and this is how Inge came into Bogey's
domain. People don't always go there by the direct path, but they can
get there by roundabout routes if they have a tendency in that
direction.

That was a never-ending antechamber. The visitor became giddy who
looked forward, and doubly giddy when he looked back, and saw a whole
crowd of people, almost utterly exhausted, waiting till the gate of
mercy should be opened to them--they had to wait a long time! Great
fat waddling spiders spun webs of a thous