“Oho!” said she, “you want to sleep here, too? Well-a-day! That ever I should have an ugly monkey napping in my hut! But I cannot turn a poor creature out into the cold night. You may stay, but keep as far from me as maybe, at the other corner of the cottage. Come, now, let us sleep and try to forget that to-morrow must be a hungry day.” So they slept, the old woman on her hard little cot and the monkey curled up on the floor, which was no whit harder. And the old woman dreamed wonderful and beautiful dreams. When it was light she opened her eyes, and at first she thought she must still be dreaming, for she had forgotten the happenings of the last night. There was the monkey with its little green cap on one side frisking about the cottage, sweeping the hearth, tidying the corners and setting things to rights. “Bless my stars!” cried the little old woman. At these words the monkey turned, and with a grin beckoned towards the table, where dishes were already set out as if for a meal. Then the old woman remembered what had happened the evening before. But she remembered also the empty cupboard, and sighed wearily. “Breakfast!” she grumbled; “it is little breakfast we shall have this day. Did we not share yestereven the last dipper of water, the last handful of rice, the last drop of tea? There will scarcely be any breakfast for me this day, and you, who are strong and frisky, had best seek one elsewhere, leaving me to die.” But the monkey shook its head, grinning knowingly, and still beckoned to the table. It lifted the dipper and showed how it was still full of water. It lifted the cover from the rice dish, and lo! there was a mess of steaming white rice. It shook the little teapot, and a drop trickled from the spout. “Bless my stars!” cried the little old woman, “last night my eyes must have cheated me. I certainly thought there was not another mouthful in the hut. Well, here is indeed a goodly meal,” and she sat down to the table. The monkey looked on wistfully, but did not venture near. Presently the old woman looked up. “What!” she cried, “shall you not share, little guest, you who so cleverly prepared my breakfast? Did I not say that you should share so long as I had a morsel upon the board? Come, then, and eat.” The monkey grinned happily and drew to the table. The scanty meal was sufficient for them both. When they had finished, the old woman nodded her head at the monkey and said,-- “Even a morsel tastes better when one shares it with company. But little I thought that a monkey would prove so pleasant a guest.” At these words the monkey squirmed with happiness and frisked about the cottage like a mad thing. After that it went on with the household duties, quite like a handy little maid. But when it had finished these it skipped out of the door and disappeared into the forest.