There was once upon a time a poor fellow who was troubled with a wife, with whom he lived on the worst terms imaginable. She paid not the slightest attention to what he told her, but was always contrary. If he told her to get up early, she was sure to lie in bed later than ever, or perhaps even for three days at a time. If he asked her to make some cakes, she would say—
“Cakes, you villain! What do you want with cakes? Do you think you deserve them?”
“All right,” the man would say; “don’t make them, then.”
Then off would go his wife, make three times as many cakes as could be eaten, and plumping them down before her husband—
“Eat,” she would cry—“eat, you gluttonous fellow! They must be finished up.”
The man spent most of his time disputing with her; but his wife used to wear him out and get the better in the end.
One day, wearied by his wife’s jangle, and utterly dispirited, he went off to the wood to look for some berries. As he went on he came at last to a wild currant-bush, and looking at it he saw beside it a deep hole. He looked down, but could discover no bottom to it.
“Dear me!” said he, “I wish my wife were down there! What is the use of living as I do in continual misery? I will see if I can get her down the hole.”
Off he went home. There he found his wife.
“Wife,” said he, “I want you to keep out of the wood. Don’t go looking about there for berries.”