"We have," says he; "thanks be for that."
"It seems waste to give away a good plump hen."
"It does," says he.
"Well, I was thinking," says the old woman, and then she tells him what she meant to do. And he went off and got two sacks.
In one sack they put a fine plump hen, and in the other they put the fiercest of the dogs. They took the bags outside and called to the fox. The old red fox came up to them, licking his lips, because he was so hungry.
They opened one sack, and out the hen fluttered. The old red fox was just going to seize her, when they opened the other sack, and out jumped the fierce dog. The poor fox saw his eyes flashing in the dark, and was so frightened that he ran all the way back into the deep forest, and never had the hen at all.
"That was well done," said the old man and the old woman. "We have got our little snow girl, and not had to give away our plump hen."
Then they heard the little snow girl singing in the hut. This is what she sang:—
"Old ones, old ones, now I know
Less you love me than a hen,
I shall go away again.
Good-bye, ancient ones, good-bye,
Back I go across the sky;
To my motherkin I go—
Little daughter of the Snow."