"Aye, to be sure," answered the housewife; "one must be neighborly. Get the saucepan for him, lass."
The maid turned to take a good saucepan from the shelf, but the housewife stopped her.
"Not that, not that," she whispered. "Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, but that doesn't matter. The Hillmen are so neat and are such nimble workers that they are sure to mend it before they send it home. I can oblige the fairies and save sixpence in tinkering, too."
The maid brought the old saucepan that had been laid by until the tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman. He thanked her and went away.
When the saucepan was returned, it had been neatly mended, just as the housewife thought it would be.
At night the maid filled the pan with milk and set it on the fire to heat for the children's supper. In a few moments the milk was so smoked and burnt that no one would touch it. Even the pigs refused to drink it.
"Ah, you good-for-nothing!" cried the housewife. "There's a quart of milk wasted at once."
"And that's twopence," cried a queer little voice that seemed to come from the chimney.
The housewife filled the saucepan again and set it over the fire. It had not been there more than two minutes before it boiled over and was burnt and smoked as before.