"It is rather dark here," said he; "they forgot to build windows
in this room to let the sun in; a candle would be no bad thing."
[Illustration]
Though he made the best of his bad luck, he did not like his quarters
at all; and the worst of it was, that more and more hay was always
coming down, and the space in which he was became smaller and smaller.
At last he cried out as loudly as he could, "Don't bring me any more
hay! Don't bring me any more hay!" The maid happened to be just then
milking the cow, and hearing someone speak and seeing nobody, and
yet being quite sure it was the same voice that she had heard in the
night, she was so much frightened that she fell off her stool and
overset the milk-pail. She ran off as fast as she could to her master,
the parson, and said, "Sir, sir, the cow is talking!" But the parson
said, "Woman, thou art surely mad!" However, he went with her into the
cow-house to see what was the matter. Scarcely had they set their feet
on the threshold when Thumbling called out, "Don't bring me any more
hay!" Then the parson himself was frightened; and thinking the cow was
surely bewitched, ordered that she should be killed directly.
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