basket, do your duty.'

Now the basket had a lid, so that he could not see what was
inside, but he heard quite clearly strange noises, as if a sort
of scuffling was going on. Then the lid burst open, and a
quantity of delicious little white rolls came tumbling out one
after the other, followed by a stream of small fishes all ready
cooked. What a quantity there were to be sure! The whole road
was covered with them, and the banks on each side were beginning
to disappear. Father Grumbler felt quite frightened at the
torrent, but at last he remembered what the Holy Man had told
him, and cried at the top of his voice: 'Enough! enough! That
will do for to-day!' And the lid of the basket closed with a
snap.

Father Grumbler sighed with relief and happiness as he looked
around him, and sitting down on a heap of stones, he ate till he
could eat no more. Trout, salmon, turbot, soles, and a hundred
other fishes whose names he did not know, lay boiled, fried, and
grilled within reach of his hands. As the Holy Man had said, he
had never eaten such a dinner; still, when he had done, he shook
his head, and grumbled; 'Yes, there is plenty to eat, of course,
but it only makes me thirsty, and there is not a drop to drink
anywhere.'

Yet, somehow, he could never tell why, he looked up and saw the
tavern in front of him, which he thought was miles, and miles,
and miles away.

'Bring the best wine you have got, and two glasses, good mother,'