y at home and do exactly
what you see others do."

"Very well," said Coranda.

There was an old shed in the yard the roof of which was falling to
pieces. The carpenters came to repair it, and began, as usual, by
tearing down the roof. Coranda took a ladder and mounted the roof of
the house, which was quite new. Shingles, lath, nails, and tiles, he
tore off everything, and scattered them all to the winds. When the
farmer returned the house was open to the sky.

"Villain!" said he, "what new trick have you played me?"

"I have obeyed you, master," answered Coranda. "You told me to do
exactly what I saw others do. Are you not satisfied?" And he took out
his knife.

"Satisfied!" returned the farmer; "why should I not be satisfied? A
few shingles more or less will not ruin me." But he sighed.

Night came, the farmer and his wife said to each other that it was
high time to get rid of this incarnate demon. As is always the case
with sensible people, they never did anything without consulting their
daughter, it being the custom in Bohemia to think that children always
have more wit than their parents.

"Father," said Helen, "I will hide in the great pear-tree early in the
morning, and call like the cuckoo. You can tell Coranda that the year
is up, since the cuckoo is singing; pay him and send him away."

Early in the morning the plaintive cry of the cuckoo was heard through
the fields. The farmer seemed surprised. "Well, my boy, spring is
come," said he. "Do you hear the cuckoo singing yonder? I will pay you
and we will part good friends."

[Illustration: HE RAN TO THE TREE AND SHOOK IT WITH ALL HIS MIGHT,
WHEN, BEHOLD! A YOUNG GIRL FELL FROM THE BRANCHES]

"A cuckoo!" said Coranda; "that is a bird which I have always wanted
to see."

He ran to the tree and shook it with all his might, when, behold! a
young girl fell from the branches, fortunately more frightened than
hurt.

"Villain!" cried the farmer.

"Are you not satisfied?" said Coranda, opening his knife.

"Wretch! you kill my daughter and you think that I ought to be
satisfied! I am furious. Begone, if you would not die by my hand!"

"I will go when I have cut off your nose," said Coranda. "I have kept
my word. Do you keep yours."

"Stop!" cried the farmer, putting his hand before his face. "You will
surely let me redeem my nose?"

"It depends on what you offer," said Coranda.

"Will you take ten sheep for it?"

"No."

"Ten cows?"

"No; I wo