Her reproaches continued for so long that though he scarcely believed what the fish had said, the poor old man thought that at least it would do no harm to put him to the test. He therefore hastened back to the shore, and stood at the very edge of the waves.
“Golden Fish, Golden Fish!” he called. “Come to me, I pray, with your tail in the water, and your head lifted up toward me!”
As the last word was uttered the Gold Fish popped up his head.
“You see I have kept my promise,” he said. “What can I do for you, my good friend?”
“There is not a scrap of bread in the house,” quavered the old man, “and my wife is very angry with me for letting you go.
“Don’t trouble about that!” said the Gold Fish in an off-hand manner; “you will find bread, and to spare, when you go home.” And the old man hurried away to see if his little friend had spoken truly.
Surely enough, he found that the pan was full of fine white loaves.
“I did not do so badly for you after all, good wife!” he said, as they ate their supper; but his wife was anything but satisfied. The more she had, the more she wanted, and she lay awake planning what they should demand from the Gold Fish next.
“Wake up, you lazy man!” she cried to her husband, early next morning. “Go down to the sea and tell your fish that I must have a new washtub.”
The old man did as his wife bade him, and the moment he called the Gold Fish reappeared. He seemed quite willing to grant the new request, and on his return home the old man found a beautiful new washtub in the small yard at the back of their cabin.