“He is making fools of us,” said they all; then the shoemakers took their
straps, and the tanners their leather aprons, and began to beat Great Claus.
“Skins, skins!” they cried, mocking him; “yes, we’ll mark your skin for
you, till it is black and blue.”
“Out of the town with him,” said they. And Great Claus was obliged to
run as fast as he could, he had never before been so thoroughly beaten.
“Ah,” said he, as he came to his house; “Little Claus shall pay me for
this; I will beat him to death.”
Meanwhile the old grandmother of Little Claus died. She had been cross,
unkind, and really spiteful to him; but he was very sorry, and took the dead
woman and laid her in his warm bed to see if he could bring her to life
again. There he determined that she should lie the whole night, while he
seated himself in a chair in a corner of the room as he had often done
before. During the night, as he sat there, the door opened, and in came Great
Claus with a hatchet. He knew well where Little Claus’s bed stood; so he
went right up to it, and struck the old grandmother on the head. thinking it
must be Little Claus.
“There,” cried he, “now you cannot make a fool of me again;” and then
he went home.
“That is a very wicked man,” thought Little Claus; “he meant to kill me.
It is a good thing for my old grandmother that she was already dead, or he
would have taken her life.” Then he dressed his old grandmother in her best
clothes, borrowed a horse of his neighbor, and harnessed it to a cart. Then
he placed the old woman on the back seat, so that she might not fall out as
he drove, and rode away through the wood. By sunrise they reached a large
inn, where Little Claus stopped and went to get something to eat. The
landlord was a rich man, and a good man too; but as passionate as if he had
been made of pepper and snuff.
“Good morning,” said he to Little Claus; “you are come betimes to-day.”
