This shout again had the desired effect: the wolf, mad with fear, fled, dragging the barrel after him. Jack held tightly on to his tail, shouting all the time as loudly as before: “Balten pour! Balten, pour!”
The louder he shouted, the faster ran the wolf. The barrel crashed and banged against the trees, it cracked and finally broke. The ribs fell in and Jack found himself once more on his feet, none the worse except for a few bruises.
The wolf ran on and on. Perhaps he is running still?
The Mermaid and the Child
THE MERMAID
ONG ago, in a little hut by the seashore, there lived a fisherman’s widow with her only child.