"The boys told the old woman that they had lost their way, and
asked her if she could give them a place to sleep. She spoke to
her husband, who sat crouched over a little fire in the corner;
and he told her to give them a bed in the loft.
"The three boys climbed the little ladder into the loft and lay
down on the hay. They were so tired that they fell asleep at
once. The old man and his wife whispered about them over their
bit of fire.
"'They are fine-looking boys; and well dressed,' said the old
woman.
"'Yes,' said the old man, 'and I have no doubt they have plenty
of money about them.'
"'Do you really think so?' said the wife.
"'I think I'll find out,' said the wicked farmer. So he climbed
up to the loft and killed the three boys. Then he looked in their
pockets for money; but there was no money there.
"He was very angry. And he was very much afraid, wicked people
are always afraid."
"Are all afraid people wicked?" asked Kat. She wished very much
that she were brave.
"M-m-m, well, not always," said Grandmother Winkle.
"The wicked farmer was so afraid that he wanted to put the bodies
of the three boys where no one would find them. So he carried
them down cellar and put them into the pickle tub with his pork."
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" screamed Kat, and she put her hands over her ears.
Even Kit's eyes were very round and big. But Grandmother said,
"Now, don't you be scared until I get to the end of the story.
Didn't I tell you it was all about St.
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