The beard was fixed in a gash
in the tree trunk, and the tiny fellow was hopping to and fro, like a
dog at the end of a string, but he could not manage to free himself.
He stared at the children, with his red, fiery eyes, and called out,
"Why are you standing there? Can't you come and try to help me?"
"What were you doing, little fellow?" enquired Rose-Red.
"Stupid, inquisitive goose!" replied the dwarf; "I meant to split the
trunk, so that I could chop it up for kitchen sticks; big logs would
burn up the small quantity of food we cook, for people like us do
not consume great heaps of food, as you heavy, greedy folk do.
The bill-hook I had driven in, and soon I should have done what
I required; but the tool suddenly sprang from the cleft, which so
quickly shut up again that it caught my handsome white beard; and
here I must stop, for I cannot set myself free. You stupid, pale-faced
creatures! You laugh, do you?"
In spite of the dwarf's bad temper, the girls took all possible pains
to release the little man, but without avail; the beard could not be
moved, it was wedged too tightly.
"I will run and get someone else," said Rose-Red.
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