“You are a traveller, I see,” said the greyhound, “and were doubtless weary and fainting with hunger when you took your seat here. I am the mother of a numerous and helpless family, who are even now clamorous for subsistence; this I am unable to afford them, unless I am myself supported. _You_ have now the means. Afford it to me, then, if only in the shape of a few of the hen’s small bones; I will be for ever grateful, and may perhaps be the means of serving you in turn when you may most want and least expect it.” But Mihal continued sedulously picking the bones, and when he had finished, he put them all back into his wallet, still resolving to have nothing whatever to do with this fairy, represented, as he imagined, by the greyhound. “Well!” said she, piteously, “since you give _me_ nothing, follow me. You are perhaps in search of service; my master, who knows not my faculty of speech, lives near; _he_ may assist you. And see,” continued she, as he followed, “behold that well. Had you relieved me, it was in my power to have changed its contents, which are of _blood_, to the finest virgin honey; but the honey is beneath the blood, neither can it now be changed! However, try your fortune, and if you are a reasonably sensible fellow, I may yet relent, and be reconciled to you.” Mihal still answered not a word, but followed the greyhound, until she came to the gate of a comfortable farmer’s residence. She entered the door, and Mihal saw her occupy her place at the side of the fire, and that she was quickly besieged by a number of clamorous postulants, whose wants she seemed but poorly adequate to supply. At a glance he perceived that the house contained a master and a mistress; but an old lady in the chimney corner, having by her a pair of crutches, made him quail, by the sinister expression of her countenance. Still, nothing daunted, he asked the master of the house at once for employment. “Plenty of employment have I, friend, and good wages,” answered he, “but I am a man of a thousand: and I may also say, not one man of a thousand will stop with me in this house.” “And may I ask the reason of this, sir?” said Mihal, taking off his hat respectfully. “I will answer you immediately; but first follow me into my garden. There,” said he, pointing to a heap of bones which lay bleaching on the ground, “_they_ are the bones of those unfortunate persons who have followed in my service; if now, therefore, you should so wish, you have my full permission to depart unhurt: if you will brave them, hear now the terms on which I must be served.” “Sir,” answered Mihal, “you surprise me. I have travelled far, have no money, neither any more to eat; say, therefore, your terms; and if I can at all reconcile myself to them, I am prepared to stop here.”