Then there was another story, for the
King got wroth, and was all for setting off to kill Peik.
But Peik had found out the day he was coming, and told his sister she
must put on the big boiling-pot with a little water in it. Just as the
King came in, Peik dragged the pot off the fire and ran off with it to
the chopping-block, and so boiled the porridge on the block.
The King wondered at that, and wondered on and on, so much that he quite
forgot what brought him there.
"What do you want for that pot?" said he.
"I can't spare it," said Peik.
"Why not?" said the King; "I'll pay what you ask."
"No, no!" said Peik. "It saves me time and money, wood hire and chopping
hire, carting and carrying."
"Never mind," said the King, "I'll give you a hundred dollars. It's true
you've fooled me out of a horse and saddle, and bridle besides, but all
that shall go for nothing if I can only get the pot."
"Well, if you must have it, you must," said Peik.
When the King got home he asked guests and made a feast, but the meat
was to be boiled in the new pot, and so he took it up and set it in the
middle of the floor. The guests thought the King had lost his wits, and
went about elbowing one another, and laughing at him. But he walked
round and round the pot and cackled and chattered, saying all in a
breath--
"Well, well! bide a bit, bide a bit! 'Twill boil in a minute.
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