"We'll see, we'll see! Look at the herbs, look at the herbs, and see whether you have any thing I want," answered the old woman as she bent down over the baskets, and, pushing her dark skinny hands down among the herbs, seized the bundles that were so tastefully spread out, and raised them one after another to her long nose, snuffing at every part of them. It pressed heavily on the heart of the shoemaker's wife to see her rare herbs handled in such a way, but she did not dare to offer any objections, as purchasers were privileged to examine her goods; and, besides this, she experienced a singular fear of the old woman. When she had rummaged through the basket, the old woman muttered: "Miserable stuff! poor herbs! nothing there that I want; much better fifty years ago; bad stuff--bad stuff!"
These remarks displeased little Jacob. "You are a shameless old woman!" cried he, angrily. "First you put your dirty brown fingers into the beautiful herbs and rumple them, then you put them up to your long nose, so that any one who saw it done will never buy them, and then you abuse our wares by calling them poor stuff, when, let me tell you, the duke's cook buys every thing of us!"
The old woman squinted at the spirited boy, laughed derisively, and said in a husky voice: "Sonny--sonny! So my nose, my beautiful long nose, pleases you? You shall also have one in the middle of your face to hang down to your chin." While speaking, she slid along to another basket containing cabbages. She took the finest white head up in her hands, squeezed them together till they creaked, flung them down again into the basket in disorder, and repeated once more: "Bad wares! poor cabbages!"
"Don't wabble your head about so horribly!" exclaimed the boy, uneasily. "Your neck is as thin as a cabbage-Stem; it might break and let your head fall into the basket; who then would buy of us?"
"Don't you like my thin neck?" muttered the old woman, laughing. "You shall have none at all, but your head shall stick into your shoulders, so as not to fall from your little body."
"Don't talk such stuff to the child!" said the shoemaker's wife, indignant at the continued inspection, fingering and smelling of her wares. "If you want to buy any thing, make haste; you are driving off all my other customers."
"Good! it shall be as you say," cried the old woman, grimly. "I will take these six heads of cabbage. But look here--I have to lean on my crutch and cannot carry any thing; let your little son carry my purchases home; I will reward him."
The child was unwilling to go, and began to cry, as he was afraid of the ugly old woman; but his mother bade him go, as she considered it a sin to burden a weak old woman with so heavy a load. Half crying, he obeyed her; gathered the cabbages together in a towel, and followed the old woman from the market.
She went so slowly that it was three quarters of an hour before she reached a remote part of the city, and finally stopped before a tumble-down house. Then she drew a rusty old hook from her pocket, and inserted it skillfully into a small hole in the door, which sprung open with a bang. But how surprised was little Jacob as he entered! The interior of the house was splendidly fitted up; the ceilings and walls were of marble; the furniture of the finest ebony, inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl; while the floor was of glass, and so smooth that the boy slipped and fell several times. The old woman then drew a silver whistle from her pocket and whistled a tune that resounded shrilly through the house. In response to this, some Guinea-pigs came down the stairs; but, as seemed strange to Jacob, they walked upright on two legs, wore nutshells in place of shoes, and had on clothes and even hats of the latest fashion.
"Where are my slippers, you rabble?" demanded the old woman, striking at them with her crutch as they sprang squeaking into the air. "How long must I stand here waiting?"