Then all at once the tramp took out the nail.

"Now it's ready, and now we'll have a real good feast," he said. "But to
this kind of soup the king and the queen always take a dram or two, and
one sandwich at least. And then they always have a cloth on the table
when they eat," he said. "But what one has to go without, it's no use
thinking more about."

But by this time the old woman herself had begun to feel quite grand and
fine, I can tell you; and if that was all that was wanted to make it
just as the king had it, she thought it would be nice to have it exactly
the same way for once, and play at being king and queen with the tramp.
She went straight to a cupboard and brought out the brandy bottle, dram
glasses, butter and cheese, smoked beef and veal, until at last the
table looked as if it were decked out for company.

Never in her life had the old woman had such a grand feast, and never
had she tasted such broth, and just fancy, made only with a nail!

She was in such a good and merry humor at having learned such an
economical way of making broth that she did not know how to make enough
of the tramp who had taught her such a useful thing.

So they ate and drank, and drank and ate, until they became both tired
and sleepy.

The tramp was now going to lie down on the floor. But that would never
do, thought the old woman; no, that was impossible. "Such a grand person
must have a bed to lie in," she said.

He did not need much pressing. "It's just like the sweet Christmas
time," he said, "and a nicer woman I never came across. Ah, well! Happy
are they who meet with such good people," said he; and he lay down on
the bed and went asleep.

And next morning, when he woke, the first thing he got was a good
breakfast.

When he was going, the old woman gave him a bright dollar piece.

"And thanks, many thanks, for what you have taught me," she said. "Now I
shall live in comfort, since I have learned how to make broth with a
nail."

"Well, it isn't very difficult if one only has something good to add to
it," said the tramp as he went his way.

The woman stood at the door staring after him.

"Such people don't grow on every bush," she said.

THE OLD WOMAN AND THE FISH

There was once upon a time an old woman who lived in a miserable cottage
on the brow of a hill overlooking the town. Her husband had been dead
for many years, and her children were in service round about the parish,
so she felt rather lo