She took out her knitting; and as the needles clicked
in her fingers, she told this story:
"Once upon a time, many years ago, three little brothers went out
one day to the woods to gather fagots. They were just about as
big as you are, Kit and Kat."
"Were they all three, twins?" asked Kat.
"The story doesn't tell about that," said Grandmother Winkle;
"but maybe they were. At any rate, they all got lost in the woods
and wandered ever so far, trying to find their way home. But
instead of finding their way home, they just got more and more
lost all the time. They were very tired and hungry; but, as they
were brave boys, not one of them cried."
"It's lucky that none of those twins were girls," said Kit.
"I've even heard of boy twins that cried, when dog carts ran
away, or something of that kind happened," said Grandmother
Winkle. "But you shouldn't interrupt; it's not polite."
"Oh!" said Kit very meekly.
"Well, as I was saying, they were very lost indeed. Night was
coming on; and they were just thinking that they must lie down on
the ground to sleep, when one of them saw a light shining through
the leaves. He pointed it out to the others; and they walked
along toward it, stumbling over roots and stones as they went,
for it was now quite dark.
"As they came nearer, they saw that the light came from the
window of a poor little hut on the edge of a clearing.
"They went to the door and knocked. The door was opened by a
dirty old woman, who lived in the but with her husband, who was a
farmer.
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