And Mytyl, who was now beginning to wake up, joined her brother in describing their visit to the grandparents and the fun which they had had with their little brothers and sisters.
This was too much for Mummy Tyl. She ran to the door of the cottage and called with all her might to her husband, who was working on the edge of the forest:
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" she cried. "I shall lose them as I lost the others!... Do come!... Come quick...."
Daddy Tyl soon entered the cottage, with his axe in his hand; he listened to his wife's lamentations, while the two Children told the story of their adventures over again and asked him what he had done during the year.
"You see, you see!" said Mummy Tyl, crying. "They have lost their heads, something will happen to them; run and fetch the doctor...."
But the woodcutter was not the man to put himself out for such a trifle. He kissed the little ones, calmly lit his pipe and declared that they looked very well and that there was no hurry.
At that moment, there came a knock at the door and the neighbour walked in. She was a little old woman leaning on a stick and very much like the Fairy Bérylune. The Children at once flung their arms around her neck and capered round her, shouting merrily:
"It's the Fairy Bérylune!"
The neighbour, who was a little hard of hearing, paid no attention to their cries and said to Mummy Tyl:
"I have come to ask for a bit of fire for my Christmas stew.... It's very chilly this morning.... Good-morning, children...."