Outside Catherine found some vagabonds who were going to steal. Then she went to them and said, “I will help you to steal.” The rascals thought that she knew the situation of the place, and were willing. Catherine went in front of the houses, and cried, “Good folks, have you anything? We want to steal.” The thieves thought to themselves, “That’s a fine way of doing things,” and wished themselves once more rid of Catherine. Then they said to her, “Outside the village the pastor has some turnips in the field. Go there and pull up some turnips for us.” Catherine went to the ground, and began to pull them up, but was so idle that she did not gather them together. Then a man came by, saw her, and stood still and thought that it was the devil who was thus rooting amongst the turnips. He ran away into the village to the pastor, and said, “Mr. Pastor, the devil is in your turnip-ground, rooting up turnips.” “Ah, heavens,” answered the pastor, “I have a lame foot, I cannot go out and drive him away.” Said the man, “Then I will carry you on my back,” and he carried him out on his back. And when they came to the ground, Catherine arose and stood up her full height. “Ah, the devil!” cried the pastor, and both hurried away, and in his great fright the pastor could run better with his lame foot than the man who had carried him on his back could do with his sound one. 60 The Two Brothers There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other poor. The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The poor one supported himself by making brooms, and was good and honourable. The poor one had two children, who were twin brothers and as like each other as two drops of water. The two boys went backwards and forwards to the rich house, and often got some of the scraps to eat. It happened once when the poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood, that he saw a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any he had ever chanced to meet with. He picked up a small stone, threw it at him, and was lucky enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell down, and the bird flew away. The man took the feather and carried it to his brother, who looked at it and said, “It is pure gold!” and gave him a great deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into a birch-tree, and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the same bird flew out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an egg lay inside it, which was of gold. He took the egg home with him, and carried it to his brother, who again said, “It is pure gold,” and gave him what it was worth. At last the goldsmith said, “I should indeed like to have the bird itself.” The poor man went into the forest for the third time, and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree, so he took a stone and brought it down and carried it to his brother, who gave him a great heap of gold for it. “Now I can get on,” thought he, and went contentedly home.