And away she went with the goat, calling on all living things she loved to follow her.
The boy stood still as a stone. He had taken care of the goat since the winter before, and he had never thought he would lose it. But now it was gone in a moment and he would never see it again. He lay down and wept.
His mother came along and saw him crying. "What are you crying about?" she asked.
"Oh, the goat, the goat!"
"Yes, where is the goat?" asked the mother, looking up at the roof.
"It will never come back," said the boy.
"Why, how could that happen!"
He could not tell her at once.
"Has the fox taken it?"
"No, oh, no."
"Are your wits gone," said his mother; "what has become of the goat?"
"Oh-h-h—I sold it for—for—a cake!"
As soon as he had said it he knew what it was to sell the goat for a cake.
"What can the little goat think of you, to sell him for a cake?" said his mother.
The boy was so sorry that he said to himself he would never again do anything wrong. He would never cut the thread on the spinning-wheel, he would never let the goats out of the fold, he would never go down to the sea alone. He fell asleep where he
