"What are you reading?" asked Tug, who was the last boy in the world to be interested in a book, unless it was one about animals, but who had nothing else to do just then.
"A book of old stories."
"What about?—adventures, and things of that sort?"
"Partly. Some of them are fairy stories—about queer little people, and animals that talk, and heavenly beings that help lost children, and people that have hard times."
"Why, those are the very fellows we want to see. Let's hear about 'em—mebbe we can give 'em a job."
"Well, if you would like it, I'll read you this story I've just begun," said Katy, good-naturedly.
"Much obliged. I think that would be tip-top."
So Katy read to him, as he lounged on the straw and gazed into the bright fire, an old myth-story of the North Wind. How, away in a far corner of Norway, there once lived a widow with one son. It was midwinter, and she was weak, so the lad was obliged to go to the "safe" (or cellar dug near the house, where the food was kept) to bring the materials for the morning meal. The first time he went, and the second, and again, at the third attempt, the fierce North Wind blew the food out of his hands. These three losses vexed the lad greatly, and he resolved to go to the North Wind and demand the food back. After long travelling he found the home of the giant, far towards the pole, and made his demand. The North Wind heard him, and gave him a cloth which would serve all the finest dishes in the world whenever the boy chose to spread it and call for them. On his way home he stopped at a tavern for the night, and, spreading his cloth, had a feast. The landlady was astonished, as well she might be, and thinking what a useful thing such a tablecloth would be in a hotel, she stole it while the lad was asleep, and put in its place one that looked like it, but which had no secret power.
The lad, not suspecting the change, went home, and boasted gleefully to his mother of what he had brought. But when he tried it, of course the false cloth could do nothing, and the old lady both laughed at him and scolded him. Vexed again, the lad hastened back, and accused the North Wind of fraud. So the giant gave him a ram which would coin golden ducats when commanded. Stopping at the tavern as before, the landlord exchanged this remarkable animal for one from his own common flock, and the lad found himself fooled a second time. Going back a third time, he told the story to the North Wind, who gave the angry lad a stout stick which, when it had been told to "lay on," would never cease striking till the lad bade it to stop.
At the tavern, the landlord, thinking there was some useful enchantment in the stick, tried to steal it also, but the boy was wide awake. He shouted, "Lay on," and the landlord found himself being clubbed till he was nearly dead, and gave back all that he had taken. Then the boy went home, and he and his mother lived rich and happy ever afterwards.