blaze he set a pot of water upon it to boil. When the water in the pot
began to boil, he chopped up the white snake into little pieces and
threw them into it. So the snake boiled and boiled and boiled, and Claus
stared with wonder as though he would never shut his eyes again.

Now it happened that just about the time that the broth was cooked, the
master was called out of the room for this or for that. No sooner was
his back turned than Claus began to wonder what the broth was like. "I
will just have a little taste," said he to himself; "surely it can do no
harm to the rest of the soup." So he stuck his finger first into the
broth and then into his mouth; but what the broth tasted like he never
could tell, for just then the master came in again, and Claus was so
frightened at what he had done that he had no wits to think of the taste
of anything.

Presently the master of black-arts went to the pot of broth, and, taking
off the lid, began smelling of it. But no sooner had he sniffed a smell
of the steam than he began thumping his head with his knuckles, and
tearing his hair, and stamping his feet. "_Somebody's had a finger in my
broth!!!_" he roared. For the master knew at once that all the magic had
been taken out of it by the touch of Claus's finger.

As for poor Claus, he was so frightened that he fell upon his knees, and
began begging: "Oh! dear master--" But he got no further than this, for
the master bawled at him,

"You have taken the best,
You may have the rest."

And so saying, he threw pot and broth and all at Claus, so that if he