called him Thomas
Thumb.

They gave him plenty of food, yet for all they could do he never grew
bigger, but kept just the same size as he had been when he was born.
Still, his eyes were sharp and sparkling, and he soon showed himself to
be a clever little fellow, who always knew well what he was about.

One day, as the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut
fuel, he said, 'I wish I had someone to bring the cart after me, for I
want to make haste.' 'Oh, father,' cried Tom, 'I will take care of that;
the cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it.' Then the woodman
laughed, and said, 'How can that be? you cannot reach up to the horse's
bridle.' 'Never mind that, father,' said Tom; 'if my mother will only
harness the horse, I will get into his ear and tell him which way to
go.' 'Well,' said the father, 'we will try for once.'

When the time came the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put
Tom into his ear; and as he sat there the little man told the beast how
to go, crying out, 'Go on!' and 'Stop!' as he wanted: and thus the horse
went on just as well as if the woodman had driven it himself into the
wood. It happened that as the horse was going a little too fast, and Tom
was calling out, 'Gently! gently!' two strangers came up. 'What an odd
thing that is!' said one: 'there is a cart going along, and I hear a
carter talking to the horse, but yet I can see no one.' 'That is queer,
indeed,' said the other; 'let us follow the cart, and see where it
goes.' So they went on into the wood, till at last they came to the
place where the woodman was. Then Tom Thumb, seeing his father, cried
out, 'See, father, here I am with the cart, all right and safe! now take
me down!' So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and with
the other took his son out of the horse's ear, and put him down upon a
straw, where he sat as merry as you please.

The two strangers were all this time looking on, and did not know what
to say for wonder. At last one took the other aside, and said, 'That
little urchin will make our fortune, if we can get him, and carry him
about from town to town as a show; we must buy him.' So they went up to
the woodman, and asked him what he would take for the little man. 'He
will be better off,' said they, 'with us than with you.' 'I won't sell
him at all,' said the father; 'my own flesh and blood is dearer to me
than all the silver and gold in the world.' But Tom, hearing of the
barg