gainst it, and in
consequence had to lie in bed for a long time afterwards.

After he had recovered from this his wife asked him one day to go and
buy candles, as they had none.

'No,' he said, 'there's no need for that;' and he stuck his hand into
the fire. This also made him take to bed for a good while.

When he had got better again his wife one day wanted fish, and asked him
to go and buy some. The man, however, wished again to show what he had
learned, so he asked her to come along with him and bring her dough
trough and a ladle. They both seated themselves in this, and rowed upon
the lake. When they had got out a little way the man said, 'Are my eyes
green?'

'No,' said his wife; 'why should they be?'

They rowed a little further out, and he asked again, 'Are my eyes not
green yet?'

'What nonsense is this?' said she; 'why should they be green?'

'Oh, my dear,' said he, 'can't you just say that they are green?'

'Very well,' said she, 'they are green.'

As soon as he heard this he sprang out into the water with the ladle for
the fishes, but he just got leave to stay there with them!

The Cunning Shoemaker

Sicilianische Mahrchen.

Once upon a time there lived a shoemaker who could get no work to do,
and was so poor that he and his wife nearly died of hunger. At last he
said to her, 'It is no use waiting on here--I can find nothing; so I
shall go down to Mascalucia, and perhaps there I shall be more lucky.'

So down he went to Mascalucia, and walked through the streets crying,
'Who wants some shoes?' And very soon a window was pushed up, and a
woman's head was thrust out of it.

'Here are a pair for you to patch,' she said. And he sat down on her
doorstep and set about patching them.

'How much do I owe you?' she asked when they were done.

'A shilling.'

'Here is eighteen pence, and good luck to you.' And he went his way. He
turned into the next street and set up his cry again, and it was not
long before another window was pushed up and another head appeared.

'Here are some shoes for you to patch.'

And the shoemaker sat down on the doorstep and patched them.

'How much do I owe you?' asked the woman when the shoes were finished.

'A florin.'

'Here is a crown piece, and good luck to you.' And she shut the window.

'Well,' thought the shoemaker, 'I have done finely. But I will not go
back to my wife just yet, as, if I only go on at this rate, I shall soon
have enough money to