ble, and placed before them a dish of porridge. The farmer was
very hungry, and ate his porridge with a good appetite, but Little
Claus could not help thinking of the nice roast meat, fish and pies,
which he knew were in the oven. Under the table, at his feet, lay
the sack containing the horse's skin, which he intended to sell at the
next town. Now Little Claus did not relish the porridge at all, so
he trod with his foot on the sack under the table, and the dry skin
squeaked quite loud. "Hush!" said Little Claus to his sack, at the
same time treading upon it again, till it squeaked louder than before.

"Hallo! what have you got in your sack!" asked the farmer.

"Oh, it is a conjuror," said Little Claus; "and he says we need
not eat porridge, for he has conjured the oven full of roast meat,
fish, and pie."

"Wonderful!" cried the farmer, starting up and opening the oven
door; and there lay all the nice things hidden by the farmer's wife,
but which he supposed had been conjured there by the wizard under
the table. The woman dared not say anything; so she placed the
things before them, and they both ate of the fish, the meat, and the
pastry.

Then Little Claus trod again upon his sack, and it squeaked as
before. "What does he say now?" asked the farmer.

"He says," replied Little Claus, "that there are three bottles
of wine for us, standing in the corner, by the oven."

So the woman was obliged to bring out the wine also, which she had
hidden, and the farmer drank it till he became quite merry. He would
have liked such a conjuror as Little Claus carried in his sack. "Could
he conjure up the evil one?" asked the farmer. "I should like to see
him now, while I am so merry."

"Oh, yes!" replied Little Claus, "my conjuror can do anything I
ask him,--can you not?" he asked, treading at the same time on the
sack till it squeaked. "Do you hear? he answers 'Yes,' but he fears
that we shall not like to look at him."

"Oh, I am not afraid. What will he be like?"

"Well, he is very much like a sexton."

"Ha!" said the farmer, "then he must be ugly. Do you know I cannot
endure the sight of a sexton. However, that doesn't matter, I shall
know who it is; so I shall not mind. Now then, I have got up my
courage, but don't let him come too near me."

"Stop, I must ask the conjuror," said Little Claus; so he trod
on the bag, and stooped his ear down to listen.

"What does he say?"

"He says that you must go and open that lar