Dorla sat in the hut and thought about the good supper she was going to cook for herself.
In the evening the same old beggar came and said to her:
“May God grant you happiness, my child. Won’t you please wash my face?”
“Wash your face, indeed!” cried Dorla in a rage. “This is what I’ll do to you!” And she took a stick and drove the old beggar away.
“Very well!” he muttered. “Very well! Very well!”
Then Dorla cooked herself a fine supper. After she had eaten every bite of it herself, she lay down on the bed and went soundly to sleep.
At midnight Long Beard knocked at the door and called out:
“A man am I
Six inches high,
But a long, long beard
Hangs from my chin.
Open the door
And let me in!”
Then Dorla was very frightened and she hid in the corner. Long Beard broke open the door and he caught Dorla and he shook her out of her skin. It served her right, too, for she was a wicked, spiteful girl and she had never been kind to anybody in her life.
Long Beard left her bones in a heap on the floor, and he hung her skin on the nail at the back of the door. Then he put her grinning skull in the window.