They gave him plenty of food, yet he never grew bigger, but remained just the same size as when he was born; still, his eyes were sharp and sparkling and he soon showed himself to be a clever little fellow, who always knew well what he was about.  One day, as the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut fuel, he said, “I wish I had some one to bring the cart after me, for I want to make haste.”  “Oh, father!” cried Thumbling, “I will take care of that; the cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it.”  Then the woodman laughed and said, “How can that be?  You cannot reach up to the horse’s bridle.”  “Never mind that, father,” said Thumbling; “if my mother will only harness the horse, I will get into his ear, and tell him which way to go.”  “Well,” said the father, “we will try for once.”

When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put Thumbling into its ear; and as he sat there, the little man told the beast how to go, crying out, “Go on,” and “Stop,” as he wanted; so the horse went on just as if the woodman had driven it himself into the wood.  It happened that, as the horse was going a little too fast, and Thumbling was calling out “Gently, gently!” two strangers came up.  “What an odd thing that is!” said one, “there is a cart going along, and I heard a carter talking to the horse but can see no one.”  “That is strange,” said the other; “let us follow the cart and see where it goes.”  So they went on into the wood, till at last they came to the place where the woodman was.  Then Thumbling, seeing his father, cried out, “See, father, here I am, with the cart, all right and safe; now take me down.”  So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and with the other took his son out of the ear; then he put him down upon a straw, where he sat as merry as you please.  The two strangers were all this time looking on, and did not know what to say for wonder.  At last one took the other aside and said, “That little urchin will make our fortune if we can get him, and carry him about from town to town as a show; we must buy him.”  So they went to the woodman and asked him what he would take for the little man:  “He will be better off,” said they, “with us than with you.”  “I won’t sell him at all,” said the father, “my own flesh and blood is dearer to me than all the silver and gold in the world.”  But Thumbling, hearing of the bargain they wanted to make, crept up his father’s coat to his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Take the money, father, and let them have me; I’ll soon come back to you.”

[Illustration]

So the woodman at last agreed to sell Thumbling to the strangers for a large piece of gold.  “Where do you like to sit?” said one of them.  “Oh! put me on the rim of your hat, that will be a nice gallery for me; I can walk about there, and see the country as we go along.”  So they did as he wished; and when Thumbling had taken leave of his father, they carried him away with them.