in this year, send them up to our house, and we will give them a
grand feast, and soft beds to sleep on, and take them to the church in
our fine carriage."

The laborer and his wife thought that it was very nice that their
friends were to be so well entertained, and were very willing to promise
to send them to the house of the farmer.

So when the Christmas season was come the farmer and his wife killed an
ox, and prepared a great feast. And when the strangers came they were
right royally entertained; but the next morning they said that they must
hasten, as they were to enter the church with the friends of the year
before. This was very satisfactory to the farmer and his wife, for they
did not want to go to church on Christmas Day, but the farmer said that
since the strangers were going to the church he would drive them there
in his carriage.

So the finest horses on the farm were harnessed to the carriage and it
stood at the door. And just as they were about to drive away one of the
strangers turned to the farmer, asking: "Did you kill the ox for us?"

"Oh, yes," answered the farmer, eagerly.

"And how many horns did he have?"

This was the question that the farmer and his wife had been waiting for,
and the farmer's wife whispered in her husband's ear: "Say four--there
will be that much more for us."

So the farmer answered: "Indeed, it was a very peculiar ox; it had four
horns."

"Then," said the stranger, "you shall have four wishes, two for each of
you."

Then they mounted into the carriage and were driven off to the church,
the farmer driving very fast, for he was eager to get back home to his
wife so that they might talk over what they were to wish for.

So when he started back the horses were pretty well "blown," and could
not go fast, and the farmer whipped them, and at last one of them
stumbled and a trace broke. This was most provoking, and he could not
wait to fix it right, but fastened it hastily, for he wanted to be at
home again. Then the other horse stumbled, and the other trace broke, so
both of them were down.

At this the farmer was very angry. "The wicked elves take you! I wish--"
But the words were not all out of his mouth before the horses had gone,
leaving the harness dangling to the carriage.

The farmer was indeed angry now, but there was nothing to be done about
it, and he knew that he had but one wish left and he wanted to make that
one very carefully, so he packed the harness on