“Now it is gone forever,” said the old woman with a little sigh, “and I shall be left alone to die of hunger and cold. For even my store of firewood is gone, and I have not strength to go to the forest for more.” And she sat down and cried bitterly, for the poor old woman’s courage was quite gone. The daylight dimmed and the night came on, and the old woman sat rocking herself to and fro, trying to forget how hungry she was. But presently the door burst open and in came the monkey, staggering with arms full of fagots for the fire. It made a bright blaze on the hearth and then came timidly up to the old woman and laid a hand upon her knee. This time the old woman did not shrink or cry out, “Ugh! Go away!” for she seemed no longer to hate monkeys as once she had done. She looked up with half a smile and said: “Ah, you have come back, little guest! I thought you had deserted me. I know you think it is supper-time; but nay, there will be no supper to-night. There is naught in the house for us to eat, or I would gladly share it with so willing a helper.” But the monkey shook its head and drew the old woman gently by the skirts towards the door. “There is no use in going to the well,” said the old woman; “it is quite dry.” But the monkey continued to pull her dress, and at last the old woman rose, shaking her head because she knew that the quest was useless. The two went out to the well, and the monkey let down the bucket. When it came up the old woman thrust in the dipper, and lo! she brought it out full once more with clear, cool, sparkling water. “Bless my stars!” she cried in astonishment, “there is witchcraft here,” and she looked at the monkey suspiciously. But the little creature only grinned. Once more it pulled at her skirts, as though it would lead her back to the house. Wondering, the old woman followed, dipper in hand. The monkey led her straight to where the rice bucket stood on the shelf. The old woman shook her head hopelessly as she took down the bucket, because she knew that it was as empty as a last year’s bird’s nest. But when she drew off the cover she nearly dropped it with surprise. There was still a handful of rice in the bottom of the bucket. “Bless my stars!” cried the old woman, and she looked again at the monkey. But the monkey only grinned and pointed towards the teapot. “That at least I know to be empty,” said the old woman positively, “for I squeezed out the last drop with my own hand.” But what was her amazement when she tilted the spout and out came an amber drop of comfort. “Bless my stars!” again cried the old woman. “Here is really enough for another meal. Witchcraft or no, you have certainly brought me good luck, little guest, and though we may die of hunger to-morrow we should greatly rejoice now, for we thought to be dead, even this same day.”