But when the maid was taking a saucepan from the shelf, the housewife pinched her arm and whispered sharply: “Not that, you good-for-nothing! Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, and the Hillmen are so neat, and such nimble workers, that they are sure to mend it before they send it home. So one obliges the Fairy People, and saves sixpence in tinkering!” Thus bidden the maid fetched the saucepan, which had been laid by until the tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman, who thanked her and went away. In due time the saucepan was returned, and, as the housewife had foreseen, it was neatly mended and ready for use. At supper-time the maid filled the pan with milk, and set it on the fire for the children's supper. But in a few minutes the milk was so burnt and smoked that no one could touch it, and even the pigs refused to drink it. “Ah, good-for-nothing hussy!” cried the housewife, as she refilled the pan herself, “you would ruin the richest with your carelessness! There's a whole quart of good milk wasted at once!” “AND THAT'S TWOPENCE!” cried a voice that seemed to come from the chimney, in a whining tone, like some discontented old body going over her grievances. The housewife had not left the saucepan for two minutes, when the milk boiled over, and it was all burnt and smoked as before. “The pan must be dirty,” muttered the good woman in vexation, “and there are two full quarts of milk as good as thrown to the dogs.” “AND THAT'S FOURPENCE!” added the voice in the chimney. After a thorough cleaning the saucepan was once more filled and set on the fire, but with no better success. The milk boiled over again, and was hopelessly spoiled. The housewife shed tears of anger at the waste and cried: “Never before did such a thing befall me since I kept house! Three quarts of new milk burnt for one meal.” “AND THAT'S SIXPENCE!” cried the voice in the chimney. “You didn't save the tinkering after all, mother!” With that the Hillman himself came tumbling down from the chimney, and went off laughing through the door. But from then on the saucepan was as good as any other. HOFUS THE STONE-CUTTER A JAPANESE LEGEND FROM THE RIVERSIDE THIRD READER (ADAPTED) Once upon a time in Japan, there was a poor stone-cutter, named Hofus, who used to go every day to the mountain-side to cut great blocks of stone. He lived near the mountain in a little stone hut, and worked hard and was happy. One day he took a load of stone to the house of a rich man. There he saw so many beautiful things that when he went back to his mountain he could think of nothing else. Then he began to wish that he too might sleep in a bed as soft as down, with curtains of silk, and tassels of gold. And he sighed:-- “Ah me! Ah me! If Hofus only were rich as he!” To his surprise, the voice of the Mountain Spirit answered:-- “Have thou thy wish!”