The Blue-Haired Ogre 83

Come here, and I will put you into my
basket.”

At that, it must be owned, poor Hans’
heart beat so fast that he could hardly
breathe, and at the same moment he heard
a little muffled terrified sound out of the
bracken—‘ Fly, fly, fly!” it said, so that
it was all he could do to keep his legs from
following. But then he reflected that if
hares were cowardly, boys should not be,
and he looked again in the ogre’s eyes and
walked straight up to him. That certainly
surprised the monster. Any one whom he
had met with before had always set off
running, and given him some work to
catch them, and he had had his great hand
ready to pounce on Hans before he could
go far. Now, instead of pouncing, he lifted
and dropped him into his basket less roughly
than could have been expected, and as Hans
tumbled in he managed to clutch one of the
blue hairs of his beard, and to pluck it out.

“What are you about, clumsy fingers?”
roared the ogre in his terrible voice.