"Are we at the top now? We must be at the top. Let me out, you old
fool!"
The old man said nothing; he climbed on and on.
The old woman raged in the flour sack. She jumped about in the sack,
and screamed at the old man,--
"Are we near the top now? Answer me, can't you! Answer me at once, or
you'll pay for it later. Are we near the top?"
"Very near," said the old man.
And as he opened his mouth to say that the sack slipped from between
his teeth, and bump, bump, bumpety bump, the old woman in the sack
fell all the way to the very bottom, bumping on every step. That was
the end of her.
After that the old man lived alone in the hut. When he wanted tobacco
or clothes or a new axe, he made the goat sneeze some gold pieces, and
off he went to the town with plenty of money in his pocket. When he
wanted his dinner he had only to lay the tablecloth. He never had any
washing up to do, because the tablecloth did it for him. When he
wanted to get rid of troublesome guests, he gave them the whistle to
blow. And when he was lonely and wanted company, he went to the
little hut under the pine trees and played with the little queer
children.