home she's had with me!"

The poor man tried to defend Lenka but his wife would hear nothing.
Lenka must go and that was all there was to it.

Early the next morning while it was still dark the woman started Lenka
off. She gave her a sack that she said was full of good meal and
smoked meat and bread. But instead of meal she put in ashes, instead
of smoked meat straw, and instead of bread stones.

"Here is meal and smoked meat and bread for your journey," she said.
"You will be a long time finding any one who will be as good to you as
I have been! Now be off with you and never let me see you again! Let
your father put you out in service if he can!"

The poor man put his ax on his shoulder and started off with Lenka. He
had no place to take her and he hardly knew what to do. He led her off
into the mountains, where he built her a little two-room hut. He was
ashamed to tell her that he was going to leave her alone, so he said
to her:

"You stay here, my dear child, while I go farther into the forest and
cut you some firewood."

But instead of cutting her firewood, he hung his mallet on a beech
tree and whenever the wind blew, the mallet made a knocking sound. All
afternoon poor little Lenka hearing the knock-knock of the mallet
thought to herself: "There is my dear father chopping wood for me!"

When evening came and he hadn't returned, Lenka went out to find him,
but all she could find was the mallet going knock-knock on the tree.
Then the poor girl realized that her father had deceived her but she
forgave him, for she knew that it was her stepmother's fault.

She went back to the little hut to get her supper, but when she opened
the sack her stepmother had given her, instead of meal and smoked meat
and bread, she found only ashes and straw and stones. Then indeed did
Lenka feel deserted and sitting down she cried with loneliness and
hunger.

While she was crying an old beggar with a long beard came into the
hut.

"God grant you happiness, my child," he said.

"May He grant you the same, old father," Lenka said, standing up and
bowing politely.

"Thank you, my child, thank you. And now will you be so kind as to
wash my face and give me a bite of supper?"

"Indeed, old father, I'd gladly wash your face and give you food, but
there's no water here and nothing to carry it in. And as for food, my
stepmother filled the sack with ashes, straw, and stones."

"That's nothing, my child. Just go behind the hut an