'Last night was so stormy, and we caught so little,' urged his wife; 'to-night the sea is like a mirror, and with the wind in this direction the herring are drawing towards land.'
'But there are streaks in the north-western sky, and Prince was eating grass this evening,' said the old man.
'Surely he has not eaten my garlic,' exclaimed the old woman.
'No; but there will be rough weather by to-morrow at sunset,' rejoined Matte.
'Listen to me,' said his wife, 'we will set only one net close to the shore, and then we shall be able to finish up our half-filled cask, which will spoil if it stands open so long.'
The old man allowed himself to be talked over, and so they rowed out with the net. When they reached the deepest part of the water, she began to hum the words of the magic rhyme, altering the words to suit the longings of her heart:
Oh, Ahti, with the long, long beard,
Who dwellest in the deep blue sea,
Finest treasures have I heard,
And glittering fish belong to thee.
The richest pearls beyond compare
Are stored up in thy realm below,
And Ocean's cows so sleek and fair
Feed on the grass in thy green meadow.
King of the waters, far and near,
I ask not of thy golden store,
I wish not jewels of pearl to wear,
Nor silver either, ask I for,
But one is odd and even is two,
So give me a cow, sea-king so bold,
And in return I'll give to you
A slice of the moon, and the sun's gold.
'What's that you're humming?' asked the old man.
'Oh, only the words of an old rhyme that keeps running in my head,' answered the old woman; and she raised her voice and went on: