Once more he called out the same thing, but as she still made not a movement, he became angry at last, and threw the glass in her face, so that the mead ran down over her nose, and she tumbled backwards into the car, for she had only been put upright, and not bound fast.
'Hallo!' cried Little Claus, running out at the door, and seizing the host by the breast; 'you've killed my grandmother now! See, there's a big hole in her forehead.'
'Oh, here's a misfortune!' cried the host, wringing his hands. 'That all comes of my hot temper. Dear Little Claus, I'll give you a bushel of money, and have your grandmother buried as if she were my own; only keep quiet, or I shall have my head cut off, and that would be so very disagreeable!'
So Little Claus again received a whole bushel of money, and the host buried the old grandmother as if she had been his own. And when Little Claus came home with all his money, he at once sent his boy to Great Claus to ask to borrow a bushel measure.
'What's that?' said Great Claus. 'Have I not killed him? I must go myself and see to this.' And so he went over himself with the bushel to Little Claus.
'Now, where did you get all that money from?' he asked; and he opened his eyes wide when he saw all that had been brought together.
'You killed my grandmother, and not me,' replied Little Claus; 'and I've been and sold her, and got a whole bushel of money for her,'
'That's really being well paid,' said Great Claus; and he hastened home, took an axe, and killed his own grandmother directly. Then he put her on a carriage, and drove off to the town with her, to where the apothecary lived, and asked him if he would buy a dead person.
'Who is it, and where did you get him from?' asked the apothecary.
'It's my grandmother,' answered Great Claus. 'I've killed her to get a bushel of money for her.'
'Heaven save us!' cried the apothecary, 'you're raving! Don't say such things, or you may lose your head.' And he told him earnestly what a bad deed this was that he