Atondido Stories
He came in dragging after him a heavy bag of golden ducats.
“I was that old beggar,” he said, “whose face you washed
and with whom you shared your supper. These ducats are to re-
ward you for your kindness. Now go into your bedroom and lie
down comfortably.”
As he said this he vanished.
Lenka went into her bedroom and there, instead of her few
rags on the floor, was a fine feather bed and coverlets and a
painted chest full of clothes. Lenka lay down on the feather bed
and instantly fell asleep.
On the third day her father came, supposing by that time
Lenka had either died of hunger or been devoured by wild
beasts. At least, he thought, he would gather together her bones.
But when he reached the hut he rubbed his eyes in surprise. In-
stead of the rough hut, there was a pretty little cottage and in-
stead of a handful of bones there was a happy girl singing away
at her spinning.
“My daughter, my daughter!” he cried. “How are you?”
“Very well, dear father. You couldn’t have found a better
place for me.”
She told him how happy she was and how pleasantly she
passed the time, spinning and singing and working. Then she
took a table-cloth and filled it with golden ducats and gave it to
him.
So he went away very happy, thanking God for the good for-
tune that had come to Lenka.
As he neared home, the old dog that lay at the door said to
the stepmother:
“Bow-wow, mistress, here comes the master. It’s chink-chink
the money before him and chink-chink the money behind him!”
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