So one day, when she had pulled the bucket up from the well, she happened to find a small pike in the bucket, which did not at all displease her.
“Such fish does not come into my pot every day,” she said; and now she could have a really grand dish, she thought. But the fish that she had got this time was no fool; it had the gift of speech, that it had.
“Let me go!” said the fish.
The old woman began to stare, you may be sure. Such a fish she had never before seen in this world.
“Are you so much better than other fish, then?” she said, “and too good to be eaten?”
“Wise is he who does not eat all he gets hold of,” said the fish; “only let me go, and you shall not remain without reward for your trouble.”
“I like a fish in the bucket better than all those frisking about free and frolicsome in the lakes,” said the old woman. “And what one can catch with one hand, one can also carry to one’s mouth,” she said.
“That may be,” said the fish; “but if you do as I tell you, you shall have three wishes.”
“Wish in one fist, and pour water in the other, and you’ll soon see which you will get filled first,” said the woman. “Promises are well enough, but keeping them is better, and I sha’n’t believe much in you till I have got you in the pot,” she said.
“You should mind that tongue of yours,” said the fish, “and listen to my words. Wish for three things, and then you’ll see what will happen,” he said.