r."

Then she threw the apple into the chest, and shut the lid close down.
When the little boy came in at the door, the Evil One made her say
kindly, "My son, will you have an apple?"

Yet she looked so angry all the time, that the little boy said,
"Mother, how dreadful you look! Yes, give me an apple."

Then she felt that she must speak to him. "Come with me," said she,
and opened the lid; "pick out an apple for yourself."

And as the little boy stooped over, the Evil One prompted her, and
smash! she banged the lid down, so that his head flew off and fell
among the red apples. Then she was seized with terror, and thought,
"Can I get rid of the blame of this?" So she went up to her room to
her chest of drawers, and took out of the top drawer a white cloth,
and placed the head on the neck again, and tied the handkerchief
round it, so that one could see nothing, and set him before the door
on a chair, and gave him the apple in his hand.

Soon after, little Margery came to her mother, who stood by the
kitchen fire, and had a pot of hot water before her, which she kept
stirring round.

"Mother," said little Margery, "brother sits before the door, and
looks quite white, and has an apple in his hand; I asked him to give
me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I was frightened."

"Go to him again," said her mother, "and if he will not answer you,
give him a box on the ear."

Then Margery went, and said, "Brother, give me the apple."

But he was silent, so she gave him a box on the ear, and the head fell
down.

She was frightened, and began to cry and sob, and ran to her mother,
and said, "Oh, mother, I have knocked my brother's head off!" and
cried and cried, and would not be comforted.

"Margery," said her mother, "what have you done!--but now be quiet,
and no one will notice; it cannot be helped now--we will cook him in
vinegar."

Then the mother took the little boy, and chopped him in pieces, put
him into the pot, and cooked him in vinegar. But Margery stood by, and
cried and cried, and all her tears fell into the pot, so that the
cookery did not want any salt.

When the father came home, and sat down to dinner, he said, "Where is
my son?"

The mother brought a great big dish of black soup, and Margery cried
and cried without ceasing. Then the father said again, "Where is my
son?"

"Oh," said the mother, "he is gone into the country, to see his uncle,
where he is going to stay awhile."

"What does