This sounded rather gay, and, before he knew it, Hänsel had joined in:
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Eia popeia, pray what's to be done? Who'll give me milk and sugar, for bread I have none? I'll go back to bed and I'll lie there all day, Where there's naught to eat, then there's nothing to pay. |
"Speaking of something to eat—I'm as hungry as a wolf, Gretel. We haven't had anything but bread in weeks."
"Well, it does no good to complain, does it? Why don't you do as father does—laugh and make the best of it?" Gretel answered, letting her knitting fall in her lap. "If you will stop grumbling, Hänsel, I'll tell you a secret—it's a fine one too." She got up and tiptoed over to the table. "Come here and look in this jug," she called, and Hänsel in his turn tiptoed over, as if something very serious indeed would happen should any one hear him.
"Look in that jug—a neighbour gave us some milk to-day, and that is likely to mean rice blanc-mange."
"Oh, gracious goodness! I'll be found near when rice blanc-mange is going on; be sure of that. How thick is the cream?" the greedy fellow asked, dipping his finger into the jug.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself! Take your fingers out of that jug, Hänsel, and get back to your work. You'll get a good pounding if mother comes home and finds you cutting up tricks."
"No, I'm not going to work any more—I'm going to dance."
"Well, I admit dancing is good fun," Gretel answered him reluctantly. "We can dance a little, and sing to keep us in time, and then we can go back to work."
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Brother, come and dance with me, Both my hands I offer thee, Right foot first, Left foot then, Round about and back again, |