"No, it's no use," I said, crying again. "Run after Father, run after Mother, get everybody to come—uh, hu, hu!"
Well, they came. I couldn't see them, but I could hear the whole lot of them behind me.
Now there was a scene! The same story began again; they pulled and twisted my head, Father gave directions, I cried and Olaug cried and everybody talked at once.
"No," said Father at last, "it can't be done. Hurry down to Carpenter Wenzel and ask him to come and to bring his saw with him."
"Uh, huh! He'll saw my head off!" I wailed.
But Mother patted me on the back and comforted me, and all the others standing behind kept saying it would be all right soon, while I stood there like a mouse in a trap and cried and cried.
But it was Sunday and the carpenter was not at home.
"Run after my little kitchen saw then," said Mother. "Bring the meat-axe, too," called Father.
Oh, how would they manage? It seemed to me my head would surely be sawed or chopped to pieces.
