lso asked the cause of
her distress and heard her sad story. He said he was sorry he could
not think of any way of preventing the evil she expected, but that he
would leave his ox to stay all night with her, as it might be a sort
of company for her in her loneliness. She led the ox into her cabin,
tied it to the head of her bedstead, gave it some straw, and then
cried again.

A courier, returning on horseback from a neighboring town, next passed
her door, and dismounted to inquire what troubled her. Having heard
her tale, he said he would leave his horse to stay with her, and make
the ox more contented. So she tied the horse to the foot of her bed,
and, thinking how surely evil was coming upon her with the night,
she burst out crying anew. A boy just then came along with a
snapping-turtle that he had caught, and stopped to ask what had
happened to her. On learning the cause of her weeping, he said it was
of no use to contend against sprites, but that he would give her his
snapping-turtle as a proof, of his sympathy. She took the turtle, tied
it in front of her bedstead, and continued to cry.

Some men who were carrying mill-stones then came along, inquired
into her trouble, and expressed their compassion by giving her a
mill-stone, which they rolled into her back yard. A little later a man
arrived carrying hoes and pickax, and asked her why she was crying so
hard. She told him her grief, and he said he would gladly help her if
he could, but he was only a well-digger, and could do nothing for her
other than to dig her a well. She pointed out a place in the middle of
her back yard, and he went to work and quickly dug a well.

On his departure the old woman cried again, until a paper-seller came
and inquired what was the matter. When she had told him, he gave her
a large sheet of white paper, as a token of pity, and she laid it
smoothly over the mouth of the well.

Nightfall came; the old woman shut and barred her door, put her
granddaughter snugly on the wall-side of the bed, and then lay down
beside her, to await the foe.

At midnight the Boar came, and threw himself against the door to break
it in. The needles wounded him sorely, so that when he had gained
an entrance he was heated and thirsty, and went to the water-jar to
drink. When he thrust in his snout the crabs attacked him, clung to
his bristles and pinched his ears, till he rolled over and over to
disencumber himself. Then in a rage he approached the front