“It must be as wide as the stove,” said Grosshand.
“It must be as deep as the bowl,” said Grosskopf.
“It must be as big as our appetites,” said Grossmund.
And then after some consideration they came to the satisfactory conclusion that a pot as wide as the stove and as deep as the bowl would be just the right size to a spoonful to satisfy their hunger.
The minute breakfast was over, the measuring began. Grosshand did the reaching around. Grossmund did the calling off. Grosskopf did the writing down. There was not a tape-measure on the whole mountain, and so Grosshand used his belt instead. He clambered down into the bowl and laid his belt once, twice, nearly three times along the edge of the stove.
“Two and a half,” called Grossmund, peering down.
And Grosskopf, sitting crosslegged near by, scratched “two and a half” with a sharpened tree trunk on his spoon.
Measuring as he came, Grosshand climbed the bowl. Grossmund counted, Grosskopf wrote, and the measuring was done.
“But who will make the pot?” asked Grossmund.