“Oh，” exclaimed Little Claus， pretending to be frightened， “he is in there still， is he? Imust throw him into the river， that he may be drowned.”
“Oh， no; oh， no，” cried the sexton; “I will give you a whole bushel full of money if youwill let me go.”
“Why， that is another matter，” said Little Claus， opening the chest. The sexton creptout， pushed the empty chest into the water， and went to his house， then he measured outa whole bushel full of gold for Little Claus， who had already received one from the farmer， sothat now he had a barrow full.
“I have been well paid for my horse，” said he tohimself when he reached home， entered his ownroom， and emptied all his money into a heap on thefloor. “How vexed GREat Claus will be when he findsout how rich I have become all through my onehorse; but I shall not tell him exactly how it allhappened.” Then he sent a boy to Great Claus toborrow a bushel measure.
“What can he want it for?” thought GREatClaus; so he smeared the bottom of the measurewith tar， that some of whatever was put into itmight stick there and remain. And so it happened; for when the measure returned， threenew silver florins were sticking to it.
“What does this mean?” said GREat Claus; so he ran off directly to Little Claus， andasked， “Where did you get so much money?”
“Oh， for my horse's skin， I sold it yesterday.”
“It was certainly well paid for then，” said GREat Claus; and he ran home to his house，seized a hatchet， and knocked all his four horses on the head， flayed off their skins， andtook them to the town to sell. “Skins， skins， who'll buy skins?” he cried， as he wentthrough the streets. All the shoemakers and tanners came running， and asked how much hewanted for them.
“A bushel of money， for each，” replied GREat Claus.
“Are you mad?” they all cried; “do you think we have money to spend by the bushel?”
“Skins， skins，” he cried again， “who'll buy skins?” but to all who inquired the price， hisanswer was， “a bushel of money.”
“He is making fools of us，” said they all; then the shoemakers took their straps， and thetanners 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 isblack and blue.”
“Out of the town with him，” said they. And GREat Claus was obliged to run as fast as hecould， 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 beathim to death.”
Meanwhile the old grandmother of Little Claus died. She had been cross， unkind， andreally spiteful to him; but he was very sorry， and took the dead woman and laid her in hiswarm bed to see if he could bring her to life again. There he determined that she should lie thewhole night， while he seated himself in a chair in a corner of the room as he had often donebefore. During the night， as he sat there， the door opened， and in came GREat Claus with ahatchet. He knew well where Little Claus's bed stood; so he went right up to it， and struckthe 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 thingfor my old grandmother that she was already dead， or he would have taken her life.” Then hedressed his old grandmother in her best clothes， borrowed a horse of his neighbor， andharnessed it to a cart. Then he placed the old woman on the back seat， so that she might notfall 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.”
“Yes，” said Little Claus; “I am going to the town with my old grandmother; she is sittingat the back of the wagon， but I cannot bring her into the room. Will you take her a glass ofmead? but you must speak very loud， for she cannot hear well.”