"Mother," said the boy, "how terrible you look! yes, give me an apple!"
Then she spoke as kindly as before, holding up the cover of the chest,
"Come here and take out one for yourself."
And as the boy was stooping over the open chest, crash went the lid down, so that his head flew off among the red apples. But then the woman felt great terror, and wondered how she could escape the blame. And she went to the chest of drawers in her bedroom and took a white handkerchief out of the nearest drawer, and fitting the head to the neck, she bound them with the handkerchief, so that nothing should be seen, and set him on a chair before the door with the apple in his hand.
Then came little Marjory into the kitchen to her mother, who was standing before the fire stirring a pot of hot water.
"Mother," said Marjory, "my brother is sitting before the door and he has an apple in his hand, and looks very pale; I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me; it seems very strange."
"Go again to him," said the mother, "and if he will not answer you, give him a box on the ear."
So Marjory went again and said,
"Brother, give me the apple."
But as he took no notice, she gave him a box on the ear, and his head fell off, at which she was greatly terrified, and began to cry and scream, and ran to her mother, and said,
"O mother! I have knocked my brother's head off!" and cried and screamed, and would not cease.
"O Marjory!" said her mother, "what have you done? but keep quiet, that no one may see there is anything the matter; it can't be helped now; we will put him out of the way safely."
When the father came home and sat down to table, he said,
"Where is my son?"
But the mother was filling a great dish full of black broth, and Marjory was crying bitterly, for she could not refrain. Then the father said again,
"Where is my son?"
