" And the outlay so
weighed upon his mind that he cleared his throat and began:
"Not for seven days, did you say, sir? You know, dear sir, or perhaps,
indeed, you do not know, that when amongst each other we men have to
wait for the settlement of an account, we expect something over and
above the exact amount. Interest we call it, my dear sir."
"And you want me to give you something extra for waiting a week?"
asked the dwarf. "Pray, what do you expect?"
"Oh, dear sir, I leave it to you," said the farmer. "Perhaps you may
add some trifle--in the flour-bag, or not, as you think fit--but I
leave it entirely to you."
"I will give you something over and above what you shall choose," said
the dwarf; "but, as you say, I shall decide what it is to be." With
which he shouldered the flour-sack, and went his way.
For the next seven days, the farmer had no peace for thinking, and
planning, and scheming how to get the most out of his one wish. His
wife made many suggestions to which he did not agree, but he was
careful not to quarrel with her; "for," he said, "we will not be like
the foolish couple who wasted three wishes on black-puddings. Neither
will I desire useless grandeur and unreasonable elevation, like the
fisherman's wife. I will have a solid and substantial benefit."
And so, after a week of sleepless nights and anxious days, he came
back to his first thought, and resolved to ask for his neighbour's
estate.
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