When it was supper time, the maid-servant filled the pan with milk and
set it over the fire to heat it for the children's supper. She had
scarcely done this, though, when there was a great sizzling and
sputtering, and the milk was burned so badly that not even the pigs
would eat it.
"Look what you have done!" the housewife said, scolding the
maid-servant. "You have ruined a quart of rich milk with your
carelessness, a whole quart of milk with the cream, all gone at once!"
"And that's twopence!" said a shrill, whining voice that seemed to
come from the chimney.
They went to the door and looked up on the roof, and they looked up
the chimney, but they could see no one. At last they decided that it
must have been the wind they had heard; and the housewife, herself,
filled the saucepan with milk once more and set it over the fire. She
only turned around, though, when the milk boiled over. Again, it was
just as burned and spoiled as it had been before.
"Well, this is no fault of mine," the housewife said. "The saucepan
must be dirty; but now there are two quarts of rich milk with the
cream, all wasted."
"And that's fourpence!" said the strange voice, speaking again, and
this time it seemed to come from out of the fire itself.
They looked behind the bellows and back of the chimney, but they could
see no one.
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