‘Well, be it as you say,’ cried the old woman, with a furious look; ‘I will buy these six heads of cabbages; but you see I must support myself on my stick, and cannot carry anything, therefore allow your little son to carry them home for me, and I will reward him.’
The little boy would not go with her, and began to cry, for he was terrified at the ugly old woman, but his mother commanded him to go, as she thought it a sin to load the feeble old soul with the burden. Still sobbing, he did as he was ordered, and followed the old woman across the market-place.
She proceeded slowly, and was almost three-quarters of an hour before she arrived at a very remote part of the town, where she at length stopped in front of a small dilapidated house. She pulled out of her pocket an old rusty hook, and thrust it dexterously into a small hole in the door, which immediately opened with a crash. But what was the astonishment of little Jacob as he entered! The interior of the house was magnificently adorned, the ceiling and walls were of marble, the furniture of the most beautiful ebony, inlaid with gold and polished stones, the floor was of glass, and so smooth that little Jacob several times slipped and fell down. The old woman took a small silver whistle from her pocket, and blew a note on it which sounded shrilly through the house. Immediately some guinea-pigs came down the stairs, and little Jacob was much amazed at their walking upright on their hind legs, wearing on their paws nut-shells instead of shoes, men’s clothes on their bodies, and even hats in the newest fashion on their heads.
‘Where are my slippers, ye rascally crew?’ cried the old woman, striking at them with her stick, so that they jumped squeaking into the air; ‘how long am I to stand here waiting?’
They quickly scampered up the stairs and returned with a pair of cocoa-nut shells lined with leather, which they placed dexterously upon the old woman’s feet.
Now all her limping and shuffling was at an end. She threw away her stick, and glided with great rapidity over the glass floor, drawing little Jacob after her. At length she stopped in a room which was adorned with a great variety of utensils, and which closely resembled a kitchen, although the tables were of mahogany, and the sofas covered with rich cloth, more fit for a drawing-room.
‘Sit down,’ said the old woman kindly, pressing him into a corner of a sofa, and placing a table before him in such a manner that he could not get out again; ‘sit down, you have had a heavy load to carry; human heads are not so light—not so light.’
‘But, woman,’ replied the little boy, ‘you talk very strangely; I am, indeed, tired, but they were cabbage heads I was carrying, and you bought them of my mother.’
‘Why, you know but little about that,’ said the old woman laughing, as she took the lid from the basket and brought out a human head, which she held by the hair. The little boy was frightened out of his senses at this; he could not comprehend how it came about; and thinking of his mother, he said to himself, ‘If any one were to hear of these human heads, my mother would certainly be prosecuted.’