He spoke roughly, as though in warning.
“O Tintelentyn, O Tintelentyn,
Do not commit this awful sin.”
But the poor fisherman, thinking of the rope which awaited him, said in a trembling voice:
“O little fish so red and fine,
Help once again, little fish mine.
My foolish wife, Susie Grill,
Bids me ask her latest will.
Little fish, I beg you pardon me,
Now powerful as God she wants to be.”
He had hardly uttered the words when the fish leaped out of his hand and in his place appeared a mighty sea-king accompanied by mermaids and strange sea-monsters. These words came from the sea-king’s mouth like a curse:
“Susie Grill, Susie Grill,
Nevermore shall have her will,
She loses all in committing such sin,
This night you will sleep in your old cabin.”
When Tintelentyn reached the sand-hill, Susie Grill, dressed in her old skirt and ragged blouse, was seated in front of the bathing-machine. She was grumbling about the hard times and the small profits to be drawn from shrimps.
