"The boys told the old woman that they had lost their way, and asked her if she could give them a place to sleep. She spoke to her husband, who sat crouched over a little fire in the corner; and he told her to give them a bed in the loft.
"The three boys climbed the little ladder into the loft and lay down on the hay. They were so tired that they fell asleep at once. The old man and his wife whispered about them over their bit of fire.
"'They are fine-looking boys; and well dressed,' said the old woman.
"'Yes,' said the old man, 'and I have no doubt they have plenty of money about them.'
"'Do you really think so?' said the wife.
"'I think I'll find out,' said the wicked farmer. So he climbed up to the loft and killed the three boys. Then he looked in their pockets for money; but there was no money there.
"He was very angry. And he was very much afraid, wicked people are always afraid."
"Are all afraid people wicked?" asked Kat. She wished very much that she were brave.
"M-m-m, well, not always," said Grandmother Winkle.
"The wicked farmer was so afraid that he wanted to put the bodies of the three boys where no one would find them. So he carried them down cellar and put them into the pickle tub with his pork."