THE STORY OF THE WIND. 39

time before they pitch a poor brother out of their
hut!” Then the henchmen leaped out of the drum,
and laid hold of the rich brother and his wife, and
trounced them soundly, until the rich brother yelled
with all his might: “Oh, oh! my own true brother,
take what thou wilt, only let me off alive!” where-
upon the poor brother cried to his henchmen:
“Henchmen, henchmen! into the drum!” and the
henchmen disappeared immediately.

Then the poor brother took his ram and his sack,
and set off home with them. And they lived happily
ever after, and grew richer and richer. They sowed
neither wheat nor barley, and yet they had lots and
lots to eat. And I was there, and drank mead and
beer. What my mouth couldn’t hold ran down my
beard. For you, there’s a kazka, but there be fat
hearth-cakes for me the asker. And if I have aught
to eat, thou shalt share the treat.