He answered,
"Oh, it is King Thrushbeard's, and might have been thine."
And she cried,
"I was a silly young tiling, I'm afeared,
Would I had taken that good King Thrushbeard!"
Then said the beggar-man,
"It does not please me to hear you always wishing for another husband; am I not good enough for you?"
At last they came to a very small house, and she said,
"Oh dear me! what poor little house do I see?
And whose, I would know, may the wretched hole be?"
The man answered,
"That is my house and thine, where we must live together."
She had to stoop before she could go in at the door.
"Where are the servants?" asked the king's daughter.
"What servants?" answered the beggar-man, "what you want to have done you must do yourself. Make a fire quick, and put on water, and cook me some food; I am very tired."
But the king's daughter understood nothing about fire-making and cooking, and the beggar-man had to lend a hand himself in order to manage it at all. And when they had eaten their poor fare, they went to bed; but the man called up his wife very early in the morning, in order to clean the house. For a few days they lived in this indifferent manner, until they came to the end of their store.
"Wife," said the man, "his will not do, stopping here and earning nothing; you must make baskets."
So he went out and cut willows, and brought them home; and she began to weave them, but the hard twigs wounded her tender hands.
"I see this will not do," said the man, "you had better try spinning."
So she sat her down and tried to spin, but the harsh thread cut her soft fingers, so that the blood flowed.
"Look now!" said the man, "you are no good at any sort of work; I made a bad bargain when I took you. I must see
