When they came near the palace, the farm-dog ran against them and barked
at them, as if they were a gang of tramps, and when the princess came to
look out of her window to see what was the matter, and saw this
procession, she burst out laughing. But Hans was not satisfied with
that. "Just wait a bit, and she will laugh still louder very soon," he
said, and made a tour round the palace with his followers.
When they came past the kitchen, the door was open and the cook was just
boiling porridge, but when she saw Hans and his train after him, she
rushed out of the door with the porridge-stick in one hand and a big
ladle full of boiling porridge in the other, and she laughed till her
sides shook; but when she saw the smith there as well, she thought she
would have burst with laughter. When she had had a regular good laugh,
she looked at the golden goose again and thought it was so lovely that
she must stroke it.
"Hans, Hans!" she cried, and ran after him with the ladle in her hand;
"just let me stroke that lovely bird of yours."
"Rather let her stroke me!" said the smith.
"Very well," said Hans.
But when the cook heard this, she got very angry. "What is it you say!"
she cried, and gave the smith a smack with the ladle.
"If you'll come along, then hang on!" said Hans, and so she stuck fast
to the others too, and for all her scolding and all her tearing and
pulling, she had to limp along with them.
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