to his sweetheart's house. On
the way a white cat ran up to him in the street and dogged his steps,
and when the animal would not make off he drew his sword and slashed off
one of its paws. On that the cat bolted. The soldier walked on, but when
he came to his sweetheart's house he found her in bed, and when he asked
her what was the matter, she gave a very confused reply. Noticing stains
of blood on the bed, he drew down the coverlet and saw that the girl was
weltering in her gore, for one of her feet was lopped off. "So that's
what's the matter with you, you witch!" said he, and turned on his heel
and left her, and within three days she was dead.[782] Again, a farmer
in the neighbourhood of Wiesensteig frequently found in his stable a
horse over and above the four horses he actually owned. He did not know
what to make of it and mentioned the matter to the smith. The smith said
quietly, "The next time you see a fifth horse in the stable, just you
send for me." Well, it was not long before the strange horse was there
again, and the farmer at once sent for the smith. He came bringing four
horse-shoes with him, and said, "I'm sure the nag has no shoes; I'll
shoe her for you." No sooner said than done. However, the smith
overreached himself; for next day when his friend the farmer paid him a
visit he found the smith's own wife prancing about with horse-shoes
nailed on her hands and feet. But it was the last time she ever appeared
in the shape of a horse.[783]

[The miller's wife and the two grey cats.]

Once more, in Silesia they tell of a miller's apprentice, a sturdy and
industrious young fellow, who set out on his travels. One day he came to
a mill, and the miller told him that he wanted an apprentice but did not
care to engage one, because hitherto all his apprentices had run away in
the night, and when he came down in the morning the mill was at a stand.
However, he liked the looks of the young chap and took him into his pay.
But what the new apprentice heard about the mill and his predecessors
was not encouraging; so the first night when it was his duty to watch in
the mill he took care to provide himself with an axe and a prayer-book,
and while he kept one eye on the whirring, humming wheels he kept the
other on the good book, which he read by the flickering light of a
candle set on a table. So the hours at first passed quietly with nothing
to disturb him but the monotonous drone and click of the machinery. But
on