But the shoemaker was very angry, and said: “I am a wizard shoemaker, and unless you mend my apron so that it is as whole as it was before, I do not know what I shall do to you, but it will be something dreadful. There is but one kind of needle that will mend a wizard shoemaker’s leather apron, and neither man can give it to you, nor woman can give it to you. There is but one kind of thread that will do it, and neither man can give it to you, nor woman can give it to you; and there is but one kind of leather that will suffice, and neither man nor woman can give that to you. So, however hard you try, you will fail, and I shall have my revenge.”
“These things,” said the boy, “I shall try to find, and, by good fortune, I may do it.”
So he set forth in the world, going up and down in it, by wood and field, seeking for needle, thread, and leather. He had passed many a pleasant field and many a tall forest, when, at an open space in the wood, he suddenly heard a cry for help.
“Help!” it said, “I am drowning!” Nor could he see water in which any one could drown. But he followed the direction whence the call came, and presently he found a deep well, and heard a splash and the cry from the water below.
“Be of good cheer,” he called down, “I am coming to help you.” Then he began to descend, putting his fingers and toes firmly in the chinks between the stones, and taking care lest he fall. In the dark water at the bottom, he found something splashing. This he lifted carefully to his shoulder, and climbed out again. When he had set it upon the ground, he saw that it was a porcupine, that shook the water from its quills, and said:
“Thank you, kind boy, for taking me from the well. I should surely have drowned had you not come to my rescue. Because you helped me, what can I do to help you?”
“I am glad to have aided you, but I fear there is nothing you can do to help me,” replied the boy; “I am journeying far to find a certain kind of needle. This morning I shot my arrow at a tree, but it glanced, and tore a big hole in the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron. I must mend this, or he will do me harm, and to do it I must have a certain kind of needle which neither man can give me, nor woman can give me; so I do not see how I am to get it.”
Then the porcupine smiled. “Perhaps I can help you in that, little brother,” he said. “Take hold of one of those long quills in my back, and shut your eyes, and do just as I bid you.”
This the boy did, and the porcupine then said: “Pull, little brother; pull as hard as you can!” The boy pulled, and felt the quill coming out of the porcupine’s back as he pulled. So he stopped pulling, not wishing to injure his
