run down the hill!” “Really, Frederick, you should have told me.” Then they ate the dry bread together, and Frederick said, “Catherine, did you make the house safe when you came away?” “No, Frederick, you should have told me to do it before.” “Then go home again, and make the house safe before we go any farther, and bring with you something else to eat. I will wait here for you.” Catherine went back and thought, “Frederick wants something more to eat, he does not like butter and cheese, so I will take with me a handkerchief full of dried pears and a pitcher of vinegar for him to drink.” Then she bolted the upper half of the door fast, but unhinged the lower door, and took it on her back, believing that when she had placed the door in security the house must be well taken care of. Catherine took her time on the way, and thought, “Frederick will rest himself so much the longer.” When she had once reached him she said, “Here is the house-door for you, Frederick, and now you can take care of the house yourself.” “Oh, heavens,” said he, “what a wise wife I have! She takes the under-door off the hinges that everything may run in, and bolts the upper one. It is now too late to go back home again, but since you have brought the door here, you shall just carry it farther.” “I will carry the door, Frederick, but the dried pears and the vinegar-jug will be too heavy for me, I will hang them on the door, it may carry them.” And now they went into the forest, and sought the rogues, but did not find them. At length as it grew dark they climbed into a tree and resolved to spend the night there. Scarcely, however, had they sat down at the top of it than the rascals came thither who carry away with them what does not want to go, and find things before they are lost. They sat down under the very tree in which Frederick and Catherine were sitting, lighted a fire, and were about to share their booty. Frederick got down on the other side and collected some stones together. Then he climbed up again with them, and wished to throw them at the thieves and kill them. The stones, however, did not hit them, and the knaves cried, “It will soon be morning, the wind is shaking down the fir-apples.” Catherine still had the door on her back, and as it pressed so heavily on her, she thought it was the fault of the dried pears, and said, “Frederick, I must throw the pears down.” “No, Catherine, not now,” he replied, “they might betray us.” “Oh, but, Frederick, I must! They weigh me down far too much.” “Do it, then, and be hanged!” Then the dried pears rolled down between the branches, and the rascals below said, “The leaves are falling.”