“’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good!”
Up came the traveller, and looking around, asked where her master was.
“Where should he be,” said the cook, “but at the bottom of the well, where you left him?”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed the traveller. “He has just come up in the bucket!”
“Oh!” cried the cook. “Oh! oh!! o-o-o-h!!! was that my master? Why, I thought he was a radish, and I have boiled him for his own dinner!”
“I hope he will have a good appetite!” said the traveller.
The cook was a good woman, and her grief was so excessive that she fell into the kettle and was boiled too.
Then the traveller, who had formerly been an ogre by profession, said, “’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good! My dinner was very insufficient;” and he ate both the little old man and the cook, and proceeded on his journey with a cheerful heart.