Well, the old woman knew well enough what she wanted to wish, and there might not be so much danger in trying how far the fish would keep his word, she thought.
She then began thinking of the heavy hill up from the well.
“I would wish that the pails could go of themselves to the well and home again,” she said.
“So they shall,” said the fish.
Then she thought of the ax, and how blunt it was.
“I would wish that whatever I strike shall break right off,” she said.
“So it shall,” said the fish.
And then she remembered that the stuff she was weaving was not long enough.
“I would wish that whatever I pull shall become long,” she said.
“That it shall,” said the fish. “And now, let me down into the well again.”