Last of all came Gunner, impatient because his men had not yet started for the woods.
“Dear Elsa,” he said gently, “my mother used to prepare things the night before, so that the servants might begin work early. We are now going to the woods, and shall not be back until night. Remember there are a few yards of cloth on the loom waiting to be woven.” Then Gunner went away.
As soon as he was gone, Elsa got up in a rage, and, dressing herself, ran through the kitchen to the little house where the loom was kept. She slammed the door behind her, and threw herself down on a couch.
“No!” she screamed. “I won’t!—I won’t endure this drudgery any more! Who would have thought that Gunner would make a servant of me, and wear my life out with work? Oh, me! Oh, me! Is there no one from far or near to help me?”
“I can,” said a deep voice.
And Elsa, raising her head with fright, saw standing close to her an old man wrapped in a gray cloak and wearing a broad-brimmed hat.
“I am Old Man Hoberg,” he said, “and have served your family for many generations. You, my child, are unhappy because you are idle. To love work is a joy. I will now give you ten obedient servants who shall do all your tasks for you.”
He shook his cloak, and out of its folds tumbled ten funny little men. They capered and pranced about, making faces. Then they swiftly put the room in order and finished weaving the cloth on the loom. After all was done they ran and stood in an obedient row before Elsa.
“Dear child, reach hither your hands,” said the old man.
And Elsa, trembling, gave him the tips of her fingers.