There was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest was named “One Eye,” because she had only one eye in the middle of her forehead.  The second had two eyes, like other people, and she was called “Two Eyes.”  The youngest had three eyes, two like her second sister, and one in the middle of her forehead, like the eldest, and she bore the name of “Three Eyes.”

Now because little Two Eyes looked just like other people, her mother and sisters could not endure her.  They said to her, “You are not better than common folks, with your two eyes; you don’t belong to us.”

So they pushed her about, and threw all their old clothes to her for her to wear, and gave her only the pieces that were left to eat, and did everything that they could to make her miserable.  It so happened that little Two Eyes was sent into the fields to take care of the goats, and she was often very hungry, although her sisters had as much as they liked to eat.  So one day she seated herself on a mound in the field, and began to weep and cry so bitterly that two little rivulets flowed from her eyes.  Once, in the midst of her sorrow she looked up, and saw a woman standing near her who said, “What are you weeping for, little Two Eyes?”

“I cannot help weeping,” she replied; “for because I have two eyes, like other people, my mother and sisters cannot bear me; they push me about from one corner to another and make we wear their old clothes, and give me nothing to eat but what is left, so that I am always hungry.  To-day they gave me so little that I am nearly starved.”

“Dry up your tears, little Two Eyes,” said the wise woman; “I will tell you something to do which will prevent you from ever being hungry again.  You have only to say to your own goat: 

  “’Little goat, if you’re able,
  Pray deck out my table,’

“and immediately there will be a pretty little table before you full of all sorts of good things for you to eat, as much as you like.  And when you have had enough, and you do not want the table any more, you need only say: 

  “’Little goat, when you’re able,
  Remove my nice table,’

“and it will vanish from your eyes.”

Then the wise woman went away.  “Now,” thought little Two Eyes, “I will try if what she says is true, for I am very hungry,” so she said: 

  “Little goat, if you’re able,
  Pray deck out my table.”

The words were scarcely spoken, when a beautiful little table stood really before her; it had a white cloth and plates, and knives and forks, and silver spoons, and such a delicious dinner, smoking hot as if it had just come from the kitchen.  Then little Two Eyes sat down and said the shortest grace she knew—­“Pray God be our guest for all time.  Amen”—­before she allowed herself to taste anything.  But oh, how she did enjoy her dinner! and when she had finished, she said, as the wise woman had taught her: