I went to the parlour window, and the child was within, and he playing. When he saw me, he cried out, “Oh, my heart’s love, come here till I see you, shaggy papa.” I broke the window, and went in, and he began to kiss me. I saw the rod in front of the chimney, and I jumped up at the rod and knocked it down. “Oh, my heart’s love, no one would give me the pretty rod.” I thought he would strike me with the rod, but he did not. When I saw the time was short, I raised my paw, and I gave him a scratch below the knee. “Oh, you naughty, dirty, shaggy papa; you have hurt me so much—I’ll give yourself a blow of the rod.” He struck me a light blow, and as there was no sin on him, I came back to my own shape again. When he saw a man standing before him he gave a cry, and I took him up in my arms. The servants heard the child. A maid came in to see what was the matter with him. When she saw me she gave a cry out of her, and she said, “Oh, my soul to God, if the master isn’t come to life again.”
Another came in, and said it was he, really. And when the mistress heard of it, she came to see with her own eyes, for she would not believe I was there; and when she saw me she said she’d drown herself. And I said to her, “If you yourself will keep the secret, no living man will ever get the story from me until I lose my head.”
Many’s the man has come asking for the story, and I never let one return; but now everyone will know it, but she is as much to blame as I. I gave you my head on the spot, and a thousand welcomes, and she cannot say I have been telling anything but the truth.
“Oh, surely, nor are you now.”
When I saw I was in a man’s shape I said I would take the child back to his father and mother, as I knew the grief they were in after him. I got a ship, and took the child with me; and when I was journeying I came to land on an island, and I saw not a living soul on it, only a court, dark and gloomy. I went in to see was there anyone in it. There was no one but an old hag, tall and frightful, and she asked me, “What sort of person are you?” I heard someone groaning in another room, and I said I was a doctor, and I asked her what ailed the person who was groaning.
“Oh,” said she, “it is my son, whose hand has been bitten from his wrist by a dog.”
I knew then it was the boy who was taking the child from me, and I said I would cure him if I got a good reward.
have nothing, but there are eight young lads and three young women, as handsome as anyone laid eyes on, and if you cure him I will give you them.”
“But tell me in what place his hand was cut from.”