o tall and heavy were they, that it seemed
as if all the fairies in the world could not have placed them upright.

Not far off them this great stone avenue, and on the banks of the little
river Intel, there lived a man named Marzinne and his sister Rozennik.
They always had enough black bread to eat, and wooden shoes or sabots
to wear, and a pig to fatten, so the neighbours thought them quite rich;
and what was still better, they thought themselves rich also.

Rozennik was a pretty girl, who knew how to make the best of everything,
and she could, if she wished, have chosen a husband from the young men
of Plouhinec, but she cared for none of them except Bernez, whom she had
played with all her life, and Bernez, though he worked hard, was so very
very poor that Marzinne told him roughly he must look elsewhere for a
wife. But whatever Marzinne might say Rozennik smiled and nodded to
him as before, and would often turn her head as she passed, and sing
snatches of old songs over her shoulder.

Christmas Eve had come, and all the men who worked under Marzinne or on
the farms round about were gathered in the large kitchen to eat the
soup flavoured with honey followed by rich puddings, to which they were
always invited on this particular night. In the middle of the table was
a large wooden bowl, with wooden spoons placed in a circle round it, so
that each might dip in his turn. The benches were filled, and Marzinne
was about to give the signal, when the door was suddenly thrown open,
and an old man came in, wishing the guests a good appetite for their
supper. There was a pause, and some of the faces looked a little
frightened; for the new-comer was well known to them as a beggar, who
was also said to be a wizard who cast spells over the cattle, and caused
the corn to grow black, and old people to die, of what, nobody knew.
Still, it was Christmas Eve, and besides it was as well not to offend
him, so the farmer invited him in, and gave him a seat at the table and
a wooden spoon like the rest.

There was not much talk after the beggar's entrance, and everyone was
glad when the meal came to an end, and the beggar asked if he might
sleep in the stable, as he should die of cold if he were left outside.
Rather unwillingly Marzinne gave him leave, and bade Bernez take the
key and unlock the door. There was certainly plenty of room for a dozen
beggars, for the only occupants of the stable were an old donkey and a
thin ox; and as the