a light.  By the time she returned, Thumbling had slipped off into the barn; and when the cook had looked about and searched every hole and corner, and found nobody, she went to bed, thinking she must have been dreaming with her eyes open.  The little man crawled about in the hay-loft, and at last found a glorious place to finish his night’s rest in; so he laid himself down, meaning to sleep till daylight, and then find his way home to his father and mother.  But, alas! how cruelly was he disappointed! what crosses and sorrows happen in this world!  The cook got up early, before daybreak, to feed the cows:  she went straight to the hay loft, and carried away a large bundle of hay with the little man in the middle of it fast asleep.  He still, however, slept on, and did not wake till he found himself in the mouth of the cow, who had taken him up with a mouthful of hay:  “Good lack-a-day!” said he, “how did I manage to tumble into the mill?” But he soon found out where he really was, and was obliged to have all his wits about him in order that he might not get between the cow’s teeth, and so be crushed to death.  At last she swallowed him down.  “It is rather dark here,” said he; “they forgot to build windows in this room to let the sun in; a candle would be no bad thing.”

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Though he made the best of his bad luck, he did not like his quarters at all; and the worst of it was, that more and more hay was always coming down, and the space in which he was became smaller and smaller.  At last he cried out as loudly as he could, “Don’t bring me any more hay!  Don’t bring me any more hay!” The maid happened to be just then milking the cow, and hearing someone speak and seeing nobody, and yet being quite sure it was the same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so much frightened that she fell off her stool and overset the milk-pail.  She ran off as fast as she could to her master, the parson, and said, “Sir, sir, the cow is talking!” But the parson said, “Woman, thou art surely mad!” However, he went with her into the cow-house to see what was the matter.  Scarcely had they set their feet on the threshold when Thumbling called out, “Don’t bring me any more hay!” Then the parson himself was frightened; and thinking the cow was surely bewitched, ordered that she should be killed directly.  So the cow was killed, and the part in which Thumbling lay was thrown away.

Thumbling soon set himself to work to get out, which was not a very easy task; but at last, just as he had made room to get his head through, a new misfortune befell him:  a hungry wolf passed by and swallowed Thumbling and all, at a single gulp, and ran away.  Thumbling, however, was not disheartened; and thinking the wolf would not dislike having some chat with him as he was going along, he called out, “My good friend, I can show you a famous treat.”  “Where’s that?” said the wolf.  “In such and such a house,” said Thumbling, describing his father’s house, “you can