68 Fairy Tales

“ How thin he is!” cried little Freda.

‘And how he shakes!” whispered Johanna.

But the mother waited until her husband
and the boys came home, and then looked
in his face and said boldly—

“Thank God, father, we have our Peter
again! If we must die, it is better that we
die together. The poor boy has been pretty
nigh frightened to death, for he says it was
all quite different from when Karl went:
the whole forest was full of faces and mock-
ing voices, and as for the ogre, he caught
sight of him once stalking along under the
trees, and the very sight made his blood run
cold. How you could have the heart to
wish the poor boys to meet him I can’t
think! No, no, this shall be the end. I'll
have no more of it.” And she spoke the
words very loud, yet uneasily.

The man said nothing—that was his way.
He held his empty pipe in his hand—for
although he had had no tobacco for many
a day, it seemed to comfort him—and stared
into the fire, and wondered what next could