pinning and singing and working. Then she took a table-cloth
and filled it with golden ducats and gave it to him.

So he went away very happy, thanking God for the good fortune that had
come to Lenka.

As he neared home, the old dog that lay at the door said to the
stepmother:

"Bow-wow, mistress, here comes the master. It's chink-chink the money
before him and chink-chink the money behind him!"

"Not so, old dog!" the stepmother cried. "It's rattle-rattle bones
before him and rattle-rattle bones behind him!"

Now when the man came into the cottage, he said: "Wife, give me a
basket and let me empty this table-cloth."

"What!" she cried. "Do you expect me to give you a basket for your
daughter's bones?"

But he began to chink the golden ducats and then she got a basket fast
enough.

When she had all the ducats safely put away she said:

"Isn't it just like you to find a place like that for your Lenka! But
what have you ever done for my poor Dorla? Tomorrow you will take her
out into the world and find a good place for her!"

So she got ready for Dorla a fine new bed and stylish clothes and as
much good food as she could carry. The next day the man took Dorla out
into the mountains and built her a little hut of two rooms.

Dorla sat in the hut and thought about the good supper she was going
to cook for herself.

In the evening the same old beggar came and said to her:

"May God grant you happiness, my child. Won't you please wash my
face?"

"Wash your face, indeed!" cried Dorla in a rage. "This is what I'll do
to you!" And she took a stick and drove the old beggar away.

"Very well!" he muttered. "Very well! Very well!"

Then Dorla cooked herself a fine supper. After she had eaten every
bite of it herself, she lay down on the bed and went soundly to sleep.

At midnight Long Beard knocked at the door and called out:

"_A man am I
Six inches high,
But a long, long beard
Hangs from my chin.
Open the door
And let me in!_"

Then Dorla was very frightened and she hid in the corner. Long Beard
broke open the door and he caught Dorla and he shook her out of her
skin. It served her right, too, for she was a wicked, spiteful girl
and she had never been kind to anybody in her life.

Long Beard left her bones in a heap on the floor, and he hung her skin
on the nail at the back of the door. Then he put her grinning skull in
the window.

On the third day Dorla's mother gave her hus