oast" and "boiled" with significant
frequency. This Genie must have served last in the capacity of cook.

[Illustration]

This was a gratifying discovery: for the next four months or so there
would be nothing to do about the farm; the Slave could prepare the
family meals during the winter, and in the spring go regularly to
work. Schneider was too shrewd to risk everything by extravagant
demands all at once. He remembered the roc's egg of the legend, and
thought he would proceed with caution. So the good couple brought out
their cooking utensils, and by pantomime inducted the Slave into the
mystery of their use. They showed him the larder, the cellars, the
granary, the chicken-coops, and everything. He appeared interested and
intelligent, apprehended the salient points of the situation with
marvellous ease, and nodded like he would drop his big head off--did
everything but talk.

After this the _frau_ prepared the evening meal, the Genie assisting
very satisfactorily, except that his notions of quantity were rather
too liberal; perhaps this was natural in one accustomed to palaces and
courts. When all was on the table, by way of testing his Slave's
obedience Heinrich sat down at the board and carelessly rubbed the
candle-snuffer. The Genie was there in a second! Not only so, but he
fell upon the viands with an ardour and sincerity that were alarming.
In two minutes he had got away with everything on the table. The
rapidity with which that spirit crowded all manner of edibles into his
neck was simply shocking!

Having finished his repast he stretched himself before the fire and
went to sleep. Heinrich and Barbara were depressed in spirit; they sat
up until nearly morning in silence, waiting for the Genie to vanish
for the night; but he did not perceptibly vanish any. Moreover, he had
not vanished next morning; he had risen with the lark, and was
preparing breakfast, having made his estimates upon a basis of most
immoderate consumption. To this he soon sat down with the same
catholicity of appetite that had distinguished him the previous
evening. Having bolted this preposterous breakfast he arrayed his fat
face in a sable scowl, beat his master with a stewpan, stretched
himself before the fire, and again addressed himself to sleep. Over a
furtive and clandestine meal in the larder, Heinrich and Barbara
confessed themselves thoroughly heart-sick of the Supernatural.

"I told you so," said he; "depend upon it, patient