linek, but nobody had. So poor Granny just cried and cried, she was so lonely and sad.
One day an organ-grinder with a wooden leg began playing in front of Granny’s cottage. The music made her think of Budulinek.
“Organ-grinder,” Granny said, “here’s a penny for you. But, please, don’t play any more. Your music makes me cry.”
“Why does it make you cry?” the organ-grinder asked.
“Because it reminds me of Budulinek,” Granny said, and she told the organ-grinder all about Budulinek and how somebody had stolen him away.
The organ-grinder said:
“Poor Granny! I tell you what I’ll do: as I go around and play my organ I’ll keep my eyes open for Budulinek. If I find him I’ll bring him back to you.”
“Will you?” Granny cried. “If you bring me back my little Budulinek I’ll give you a measure of rye and a measure of millet and a measure of poppy seed and a measure of everything in the house!”
So the organ-grinder went off and everywhere he played his organ he looked for Budulinek. But he couldn’t find him.
At last one day while he was walking through the
