No sooner had he said this than—rustle, rustle—what should come down the chimney but a dish containing a string of as fine sausages as ever were seen. The dish came down on the hearth with a slight clatter, and the woodman and his wife stared in astonishment. “What’s all this?” said she.
He answered not a word, and she glowered and glowered. “Oh, you silly man!” she cried, “there’s one wish gone already, and only two are left. What a fool you have been! I wish the sausages were fast to the tip of your nose.”
A noble string of sausages hung from his nose
Before you could wink, there the goodman sat with his nose the longer for a noble string of sausages. He tried to pull them off, but they stuck. Then his wife gave them a pull, but still they stuck. They refused to come off even when the two pulled together.
“Ouch, ouch!” exclaimed the man, “we must stop this pulling, or we shall pull my nose off. But I can’t have these things staying on my nose. What shall we do?”
“They are not so very unsightly,” said she, “and we had better wish for vast riches. Then we shall be able to live in comfort the rest of our lives, and if you object to the looks of the sausages we can have a golden case made to hide them.”
“I couldn’t endure them, case or no case,” declared the man. Then, lest the goodwife should wish for riches in spite of his protest, he hastily wished that the sausages might come off.
There they lay in the dish as before, and if the husband and wife did not ride in a golden coach and dress in silk and satin, why they at least had as fine a mess of sausages for their supper as the heart of man could desire.