The Old Woman really had heard. She stared at her first son in a
terrible manner. "So you've come, have you?" she exclaimed. "And I
suppose you'll tell me you've been working hard all day?"

"Yes, mother," replied the first son, "We've carried more fagots than
you ever saw. Such fine fagots! Didn't we?" He turned to the second
son to have his report verified.

"You wouldn't believe how many fine fagots we carried," declared the
second son.

The other sons began to appear one by one, now that the first shock of
battle was over. They all stared up at the Old Woman as if they were
prepared to run if she so much as sneezed.

"Well, you know what's coming to you now," said the Old Woman. "Come
on, all of you!"

They all began to make wry faces. "If we could only have some bread
with it, mother!" pleaded the first son.

"You'll take what's offered you!" exclaimed the Old Woman grimly.

"And if you wouldn't whip us to-night, mother--anyway, not so soundly,"
said the second son.

To this the Old Woman retorted: "Who does the whipping around here, I'd
like to know? Come here this instant!"