But the little sister tied the twigs together with a piece
of ribbon, and they got past safely, and, after running through
the wood, came out on to the open fields.
In the meantime in the hut the cat was busy weaving the linen and
tangling the threads as it wove. And the witch returned to see
how the children were getting on; and she crept up to the window,
and whispered:
'Are you weaving, my little dear?'
'Yes, granny, I am weaving,' answered the cat.
When the witch saw that the children had escaped her, she was
furious, and, hitting the cat with a porringer, she said: 'Why
did you let the children leave the hut? Why did you not scratch
their eyes out?'
But the cat curled up its tail and put its back up, and answered:
'I have served you all these years and you never even threw me a
bone, but the dear children gave me their own piece of ham.'
Then the witch was furious with the watch-dog and with the
birch-trees, because they had let the children pass. But the dog
answered:
'I have served you all these years and you never gave me so much
as a hard crust, but the dear children gave me their own loaf of
bread.'
And the birch rustled its leaves, and said: 'I have served you
longer than I can say, and you never tied a bit of twine even
round my branches; and the dear children bound them up with their
brightest ribbons.
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