“Hush, darling,” said the mother, “though the hunger is on you, wait; for the farmer’s cow will be milked presently, and I’ll knock down the pail so the milk will be spilt upon the ground, and you can drink your fill.”[6]
When the farmer heard this he sent a stout man to watch the girl that milked, and to tie the cow’s feet that she should not kick. So that time no milk was spilled upon the ground.
Next morning he went out again by sunrise, and he heard the child crying more bitterly even than before—
“Mother, mother! I am hungry. Give me to eat.”
“Wait, my child,” said the mother; “the farmer’s maid bakes cakes to-day, and I’ll make the dish to fall just as she is carrying them from the griddle. So we shall have plenty to eat this time.”
Then the farmer went home and locked up the meal, and said—
“No cakes shall be baked to-day, not till the night.”
But the cry of the child was in his ears, and he could not rest. So early in the morning he was out again, and bitter was the cry of the child as he passed the copse—
“Mother, mother!” it said, “I have had no milk, I have had no cake; let me lay down my head on your breast and die.”
“Wait,” said the mother, “some one will die before you, my darling. Let the old man look to his son, for he will be killed in battle before many days are over; and then the curse will be lifted from the poor, and we shall have food in plenty.”