Then she heard the King’s forester talking to his sweetheart in the courtyard below. He had heard nothing of how the Queen had sent far and wide to gather names, for he had been off in the forest for three days. The forester told his sweetheart how he had lost his way in the forest the night before. Then he had come to a hollow, and it was full of rocks, and a red fire was burning among them. Around this fire a crooked little dwarf was dancing and as he danced he sang:
“To-day I brew, to-night I bake,
To-morrow I the young prince take,
For none could guess, unless they were told
That Brittle-Legs is the name I hold.”
When the Queen heard that, she laughed aloud. Then she arose and put the baby down, and sent word to the forester that he should tell no one else of what he had seen in the forest.
Not long afterward the dwarf came as usual.
“Well, and have you guessed my name?” he asked; “for if you have not I must have the child.”
The Queen pretended to be in great trouble. “Is it—is it Short-Shanks?” she asked.
“No,” cried the dwarf and his eyes shone like sparks.