They opened the door, ran into the house, seized the pitcher, and ran away, away, away, into the deep woods.
The little dwarf was so sad, he went to the brook again and said,
“The dwarfs have carried my pitcher away,
Alas! alas! alackaday!”
“I will fix them,” said the little brook. “You were so good to take all my stones away, you shall soon have the pitcher back again; never fear.”
Then the little dwarf went back home singing a merry song.
Now the dwarfs had carried the pitcher away with them, and when they had run for a long time, they saw a little brook, winding in and out among the trees, and they said, “We will fill the pitcher with water.”
So the first little dwarf ran and filled the pitcher with water. Then he ran back to his companions who sat in a circle, and began to fill their glasses. They all set up a shout, for out of the pitcher came only thick mud!
“You have played a trick on us,” they cried.
Then the second little dwarf went and filled the pitcher.