"
At first the Ogress would not hear of such a thing, but at last she
consented, and made a stew of one of the little pigs instead of
cooking the little girl.
"But supposing the Ogre goes to count the children," said she; "he
will find one too many."
"Then let her go, dear mother," said the widow's daughter; "she will
find her way home, and you will never be blamed."
"But she must stir the stew with her forefinger first," said the
Ogress, "that it may have a human flavour."
So the little girl had to stir the hot stew with her finger, which
scalded it badly; and then she was set at liberty, and ran home as
hard as she could; and as the little maid's needles sparkled here and
there on the path, she had no difficulty in finding her way.
The Ogre was quite contented with his dinner, and the Ogress got great
praise for the way in which she had darned his stockings. Thus it went
on for four days more. As the widow's little girl wouldn't work if her
companions were killed, the Ogress cooked the pigs one after another,
and the children were all sent away with burnt forefingers.
When the fifth had been dismissed, and all the pigs were eaten, the
Ogress said:
"To-morrow you will have to be stewed, and now I wish I had kept one
of the others that I might have saved you altogether to work for me.
However, there is one comfort, the stockings are finished."
But meanwhile the other children had got safely home, and had told
their tale.
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