he had profaned Sunday, and the other of Ahti's cow.

About midnight the fisherman sat up, and said to his wife:

'Dost thou hear anything?'

'No,' said she.

'I think the twirling of the weathercock on the roof bodes ill,' said
he; 'we shall have a storm.'

'Oh, it is nothing but your fancy,' said his wife.

Matte lay down, but soon rose again.

'The weathercock is squeaking now,' said he.

'Just fancy! Go to sleep,' said his wife; and the old man tried to.

For the third time he jumped out of bed.

'Ho! how the weathercock is roaring at the pitch of its voice, as if it
had a fire inside it! We are going to have a tempest, and must bring in
the net.'

Both rose. The summer night was as dark as if it had been October, the
weathercock creaked, and the storm was raging in every direction. As
they went out the sea lay around them as white as snow, and the spray
was dashing right over the fisher-hut. In all his life Matte had never
remembered such a night. To launch the boat and put to sea to rescue the
net was a thing not to be thought of. The fisherman and his wife stood
aghast on the doorstep, holding on fast by the doorpost, while the foam
splashed over their faces.

'Did I not tell thee that there is no luck in Sunday fishing?' said
Matte sulkily; and his wife was so frightened that she never even once
thought of Ahti's cows.

As there was nothing to be done, they went in. Their eyes were heavy for
lack of slumber, and they slept as soundly as if there had not been such
a thing as an angry sea roaring furiously around their lonely dwelling.
When they awoke, the sun was high in the heavens, the tempest had
ceased, and only the swell of the sea rose in silvery heavings against
the red rock.

'What can that be?' said the old woman, as she peeped out of the door.

'It looks like a big seal,' said Matte.

[Illustration: HOW The Sea-Fairies Brought a COW for MAIE]

'As sure as I live, it's a cow!' exclaimed Maie. And certainly it was a
cow, a fine red cow, fat and flourishing, and looking as if it had been
fed all its days on spinach. It wandered peacefully up and down the
shore, and never so much as even looked at the poor little tufts of
grass, as if it despised such fare.

Matte could not believe his eyes. But a cow she seemed, and a cow she
was found to be; and when the old woman began to milk her, every
pitcher and pan, even to the baler, was soon filled with the most
delicious milk.

The old ma