He put his ax over his shoulder, picked up his basket and bottle, and off he went. When he arrived at his cottage he sat down by the fireside to rest and told his wife about the fairy.
“Well,” said she, when she had heard him through, “If it is left to my choice, I know very well what I would wish for. I think nothing is so good as to be handsome, and rich, and aristocratic.”
“And yet,” said the husband, “even with such wishes realized, one might be sick and fretful and die young. It would be much wiser to wish for health, cheerfulness, and a long life.”
“The fairy should have promised a dozen wishes,” said the wife, “for there are at least that many things I want very much.”
“Yes,” agreed the man, “a dozen wishes would have been better, but as we have only three we must make those three do all that is possible. Let us consider the matter carefully until tomorrow before wishing, that we may decide wisely what three things are most necessary for us.”
“I’ll think the whole night through,” said she.
“After all,” remarked the man, “it may be the fairy’s promise was only a trick. Who can tell?”
The evening was chilly, and the wife took the tongs and poked the fire into brighter blazing. For a time the man sat in silence, and then he happened to think that he was hungry. “Why isn’t the supper ready?” he asked.
“You forget that you are home early,” she replied. “It won’t be supper time for two hours.”
“Ah!” sighed he, “two hours is a long wait after working in the woods all day. I wish I had some nice sausages this minute.”