The little boy only cried the more. “I want my little grandmamma!” he said. “She would tell me a story.”
“I’ll tell you a story,” said the other grandmother, who was making noodles. “Come and stand by me. But there must be no more crying, and it must be a very short story, for I am busy. Is that a bargain?”
The little boy dried his eyes and stood by the other grandmother to hear
A SHORT STORY
Once upon a time a Hungarian was crossing a brook. He had on a woollen coat with short sleeves. As long as were the sleeves, so long will be this story. If the sleeves had been longer, the story would have been longer too.
“That is a very short story,” said the little boy.
“So I promised you,” said the other grandmother. “I have kept my part of the bargain, have I not? Now do you keep yours, and after dinner I will tell you a longer one. Only remember, no more tears!”
The little boy kept his part of the bargain, and after dinner the other grandmother told him about