this. Just say it can't be mended any more, it is not good for anything,
and give them something for the copper. They will be satisfied enough.
If we go back to Bern we will take it to the man, who will give eighty
francs for it."

"That is true. We can do that," said the man, delighted; "perhaps they
won't want anything for the kettle when they know they can't use it any
more. Come, Sami," he called to the boy, who stood staring at them on the
other side of the fire, and had heard and understood everything--"come
here, I want to tell you something."

Sami obeyed.

"Run quickly up to the old house, where you brought the little
kettle from, and say it isn't good for anything, that it can't be
mended any more."

Sami, filled with horror, stared at the man. "Now hurry up and go along,"
said his wife, who was still standing there; "you understand well enough
what you have to do."

Sami continued looking at the man without moving, as if he really had not
understood his words.

"What is the matter with you? Why don't you hurry along?" snarled the
man to him.

"I can't do that. You are not God-fearing if you do such a thing as
that," said Sami.