"Are you not satisfied?" said Coranda, taking his knife from his pocket. "I did not say that," returned the farmer. "A dead dog is nothing but a dead dog." But he sighed. A few days after, the farmer and his wife went to market. Fearing their terrible servant, they said to him, "Stay at home and do exactly what you see others do." "Very well," said Coranda. There was an old shed in the yard the roof of which was falling to pieces. The carpenters came to repair it, and began, as usual, by tearing down the roof. Coranda took a ladder and mounted the roof of the house, which was quite new. Shingles, lath, nails, and tiles, he tore off everything, and scattered them all to the winds. When the farmer returned the house was open to the sky. "Villain!" said he, "what new trick have you played me?" "I have obeyed you, master," answered Coranda. "You told me to do exactly what I saw others do. Are you not satisfied?" And he took out his knife. "Satisfied!" returned the farmer; "why should I not be satisfied? A few shingles more or less will not ruin me." But he sighed. Night came, the farmer and his wife said to each other that it was high time to get rid of this incarnate demon. As is always the case with sensible people, they never did anything without consulting their daughter, it being the custom in Bohemia to think that children always have more wit than their parents. "Father," said Helen, "I will hide in the great pear-tree early in the morning, and call like the cuckoo. You can tell Coranda that the year is up, since the cuckoo is singing; pay him and send him away." Early in the morning the plaintive cry of the cuckoo was heard through the fields. The farmer seemed surprised. "Well, my boy, spring is come," said he. "Do you hear the cuckoo singing yonder? I will pay you and we will part good friends." [Illustration: HE RAN TO THE TREE AND SHOOK IT WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, WHEN, BEHOLD! A YOUNG GIRL FELL FROM THE BRANCHES] "A cuckoo!" said Coranda; "that is a bird which I have always wanted to see." He ran to the tree and shook it with all his might, when, behold! a young girl fell from the branches, fortunately more frightened than hurt. "Villain!" cried the farmer. "Are you not satisfied?" said Coranda, opening his knife. "Wretch! you kill my daughter and you think that I ought to be satisfied! I am furious. Begone, if you would not die by my hand!" "I will go when I have cut off your nose," said Coranda. "I have kept my word. Do you keep yours." "Stop!" cried the farmer, putting his hand before his face. "You will surely let me redeem my nose?" "It depends on what you offer," said Coranda. "Will you take ten sheep for it?" "No." "Ten cows?" "No; I would rather cut off your nose." And he sharpened his knife on the door-step. "Father," said Helen, "the fault was mine; it belongs to me to repair it. Coranda, will you take my hand instead of my father's nose?" "Yes," replied Coranda.