“If one had only a little barley and a drop of milk, we could ask the king himself to have some of it,” he said; “for this is what he has every blessed evening—that I know, for I have been in service under the king’s cook,” he said.
“Dear me! Ask the king to have some! Well, I never!” exclaimed the woman, slapping her knees. She was quite awestruck at the tramp and his grand connections.
“But what one has to go without, it’s no use thinking more about,” said the tramp.
And then she remembered she had a little barley; and as for milk, well, she wasn’t quite out of that, she said, for her best cow had just calved. And then she went to fetch both the one and the other.
The tramp went on stirring, and the woman sat staring, one moment at him and the next at the pot.
Then all at once the tramp took out the nail.
“Now it’s ready, and now we’ll have a real good feast,” he said. “But to this kind of soup the king and the queen always take a dram or two, and one sandwich at least. And then they always have a cloth on the table when they eat,” he said. “But what one has to go without, it’s no use thinking more about.”
But by this time the old woman herself had begun to feel quite grand and fine, I can tell you; and if that was all that was wanted to make it just as the king had it, she thought it would be nice to have it exactly the same way for once, and play at being king and queen with the tramp. She went straight to a cupboard and brought out the brandy bottle, dram glasses, butter and cheese, smoked beef and veal, until at last the table looked as if it were decked out for company.
Never in her life had the old woman had such a grand feast, and never had she tasted such broth, and just fancy, made only with a nail!
She was in such a good and merry humor at having learned such an economical way of making broth that she did not know how to make enough of the tramp who had taught her such a useful thing.