The cow-herd woman came to watch. “You should not have come out in bare feet,” she said to the little boy. “Where are your bachmaki?”
“Your feet are bare,” replied the little boy.
“I am old and am used to it,” said the cow-herd woman. “You will freeze your toes.”
When the sheep were all fed the little boy’s toes began to ache, and he ran into the house. “Keep away from the fire,” said his eldest sister, who was weaving at the loom in the corner. “If you go near the fire your toes will sting.”
The little boy’s toes were stinging already, and he began to cry.
“Run away to grandmother,” said the eldest sister. “She will warm your toes with her hands.”
The grandmother heard the little boy crying and she came to the door to see what was the matter, for it makes a grandmother’s heart ache to hear a child’s cries. When she saw the bare toes, white with cold, she gathered the little boy up in her arms and carried him to her room. There she sat down, far away from the fire, took the cold feet in her hands and rubbed them to make them warm. Then the little boy stopped crying.
“They are warm now,” he said. “But I don’t want to get down. It is nice in your lap.”
“You may sit here while I tell you a story,” said the grandmother. “Then you must get down, for I haven’t finished my stint of spinning.”
“I will,” said the little boy; and the grandmother told him the story of