“Quite true!” assented the others, “quite true!” And so they went on talking as though they had been in their own house and no one but themselves in the room. Gredel listened with astonishment, and Peterkin with all his ears, too delighted even to be astonished.
“Now this,” thought he, “comes of their knowing something of what goes on beyond the Great Hill as far away as I can see.”
“Time for bed,” suddenly said Dame Trot, who evidently was the leader, “if we are to see the sun rise.”
The sisters then made themselves quite comfortable, and tucked up their thistle-down beds and home-spun sheets with perfect good humor.
. . . . . . . .
Peterkin awoke cheerily, and he was dressed even before the sun appeared. He made the fire, set the table, gave the place a cheerful air, and then opened the door to look after the goats, wondering why he felt so light and happy. He was soon joined by the three sisters, who made a great to-do with some cold water and their washing.
“Is it good to put your head souse in a pail?” asked Peterkin.
“Try it,” replied Dame Trot.
So by this time, quite trusting the old women, he did so, and found his breath gone in a moment. However, he enjoyed breathing all the more when he found his head once more out of the pail, and after Pansy had rubbed him dry with a rough towel, which she took out of Satchel’s wallet, he thought he had never experienced such a delightful feeling as then took possession of him. Even since the previous night he felt quite a new being, and alas! he found himself forgetting Gredel—his mother Gredel, who loved him and taught him only to live for to-day.
“And shall I show you down the hill-side?” asked Peterkin, when the three sisters had taken their porridge and were sprucing themselves for departure.