And as he did not come at once, they cried again. And then he went up. The house was full of people, all busy eating foxes’ liver.
“It is very hard to cut,” said the dwarfs. “It is dried.”
And the dwarfs worked away as hard as they could, but could not cut it through. But the guest took and munched and crunched as if it had been fresh meat.
“Ai, ai—see how he can eat,” cried some.
But all those in the house were very kind to him, and would gladly have seen him married into their family. And the young women had dressed their hair daintily with mussel shells, that the guest might think them the finer. But he cared for none of them, for the little old man’s daughter was the most beautiful.
And therefore he went down to that house again when it was time to go to rest. And he said he would have her to wife.
And so they lived happily together, and soon they had a child.
And now the man began to long for his own place and kin. He thought more and more of his old mother, who was still alive when he started off.
And so one day he said he was going to visit his home.
“We will all go with you,” said the little old man; “we will visit your kinsfolk.”