She rushed to open the door for them, and exclaimed, as she embraced
them:

'How glad I am to see you again, dear children! You must be very tired
and very hungry. And you, Peterkin, how muddy you are--come and let me
wash you!' This Peterkin was her eldest son. She loved him more than all the others
because he was inclined to be red-headed, and she herself was rather
red. They sat down at the table and ate with an appetite which it did their
parents good to see. They all talked at once, as they recounted the
fears they had felt in the forest. The good souls were delighted to have their children with them again,
and the pleasure continued as long as the ten crowns lasted. But when
the money was all spent they relapsed into their former sadness. They
again resolved to lose the children, and to lead them much further away
than they had done the first time, so as to do the job thoroughly. But
though they were careful not to speak openly about it, their
conversation did not escape little Tom Thumb, who made up his mind to
get out of the situation as he had done on the former occasion. But though he got up early to go and collect his little stones, he found
the door of the house doubly locked, and he could not carry out his
plan. He could not think what to do until the wood-cutter's wife gave them
each a piece of bread for breakfast. Then it occurred to him to use the
bread in place of the stones, by throwing crumbs along the path which
they took, and he tucked it tight in his pocket. Their parents led them into the thickest and darkest part of the forest,
and as soon as they were there slipped away by a side-path and left
them. This did not much trouble little Tom Thumb, for he believed he
could easily find the way back by means of the bread which he had
scattered wherever he walked. But to his dismay he could not discover a
single crumb. The birds had come along and eaten it all. They were in sore trouble now, for with every step they strayed further,
and became more and more entangled in the forest. Night came on and a
terrific wind arose, which filled them with dreadful alarm. On every
side they seemed to hear nothing but the howling of wolves which were
coming to eat them up. They dared not speak or move. In addition it began to rain so heavily that they were soaked to the
skin. At every step they tripped and fell on the wet ground, getting up
again covered with mud, not knowing what to do with their hands. Little Tom Thumb climbed to the top of a tree, in an endeavour to see
something. Looking all about him he espied, far away on the other side
of the forest, a little light like that of a candle. He got down from
the tree, and was terribly disappointed to find that when he was on the
ground he could see nothing at all. After they had walked some distance in the direction of the light,
however, he caught a glimpse of it again as they were nearing the edge
of the forest. At last they reached the house where the light was
burning, but not without much anxiety, for every time they had to go
down into a hollow they lost sight of it. They knocked at the door, and a good dame opened to them. She asked them
what they wanted. Little Tom Thumb explained that they were poor children who had lost
their way in the forest, and begged her, for pity's sake, to give them a
night's lodging. Noticing what bonny children they all were, the woman began to cry. 'Alas, my poor little dears!' she said; 'you do not know the place you
have come to! Have you not heard that this is the house of an ogre who
eats little children?' 'Alas, madam!' answered little Tom Thumb, trembling like all the rest of
his brothers, 'what shall we do? One thing is very certain: if you do
not take us in, the wolves of the forest will devour us this very night,
and that being so we should prefer to be eaten by your husband. Perhaps
he may take pity on us, if you will plead for us.' The ogre's wife, thinking she might be able to hide them from her
husband till the next morning, allowed them to come in, and put them to
warm near a huge fire, where a whole sheep was cooking on the spit for
the ogre's supper. Just as they were beginning to get warm they heard two or three great
bangs at the door. The ogre had returned. His wife hid them quickly
under the bed and ran to open the door. The first thing the ogre did was to ask whether supper was ready and the
wine opened. Then without ado he sat down to table. Blood was still
dripping from the sheep, but it seemed all the better to him for that. He sniffed to right and left, declaring that he could smell fresh flesh. 'Indeed!' said his wife. 'It must be the calf which I have just dressed
that you smell.' '_I smell fresh flesh_, I tell you,' shouted the ogre, eyeing his wife
askance; 'and there is something going on here which I do not
understand.' With these words he got up from the table and went straight to the bed. 'Aha!' said he; 'so this is the way you deceive me, wicked woman that
you are! I have a very great mind to eat you too! It's lucky for you
that you are old and tough! I am expecting three ogre friends of mine to
pay me a visit in the next few days, and here is a tasty dish which will
just come in nicely for them!' One after another he dragged the children out from under the bed. [Illustration: '_He could smell fresh flesh_']

The poor things threw themselves on their knees, imploring mercy; but
they had to deal with the most cruel of all ogres. Far from pitying
them, he was already devouring them with his eyes, and repeating to
his wife that when cooked with a good sauce they would make most dainty
morsels. Off he went to get a large knife, which he sharpened, as he drew near
the poor children, on a long stone in his left hand. He had already seized one of them when his wife called out to him. 'What
do you want to do it now for?' she said; 'will it not be time enough
to-morrow?' 'Hold your tongue,' replied the ogre; 'they will be all the more
tender.' 'But you have such a lot of meat,' rejoined his wife; 'look, there are a
calf, two sheep, and half a pig.' 'You are right,' said the ogre; 'give them a good supper to fatten them
up, and take them to bed.' The good woman was overjoyed and brought them a splendid supper; but the
poor little wretches were so cowed with fright that they could not eat. As for the ogre, he went back to his drinking, very pleased to have such
good entertainment for his friends. He drank a dozen cups more than
usual, and was obliged to go off to bed early, for the wine had gone
somewhat to his head. Now the ogre had seven daughters who as yet were only children. These
little ogresses all had the most lovely complexions, for, like their
father, they ate fresh meat. But they had little round grey eyes,
crooked noses, and very large mouths, with long and exceedingly sharp
teeth, set far apart.