day; but on the way he suddenly remembered that he was not yet possessed of the magic spring-root, and he stole into the house with a heavy heart, and threw himself down upon his hard straw bed. He could neither sleep nor rest; but as soon as it was light he got up and wrote down exactly all that was to be done to find the treasure, that he might not forget anything, and when it lay clear and plain before his eyes he comforted himself with the thought that, though he must do the rough work for his wife during one more winter at least, he would not have to tread the path to the mill for the rest of his life. Soon he heard his wife’s harsh voice singing its morning song as she went about her household affairs, scolding her daughter the while. She burst open his door while he was still dressing: ‘Well, Toper!’ was her greeting, ‘have you been drinking all night, wasting money that you steal from my housekeeping? For shame, drunkard!’
Master Peter, who was well used to this sort of talk, did not disturb himself, but waited till the storm blew over, then he said calmly:
‘Do not be annoyed, dear wife. I have a good piece of business in hand which may turn out well for us.’
‘You with a good business?’ cried she, ‘you are good for nothing but talk!’
‘I am making my will,’ said he, ‘that when my hour comes my house may be in order.’
These unexpected words cut his daughter to the heart; she remembered that all night long she had dreamed of a newly dug grave, and at this thought she broke out into loud lamentations. But her mother only cried: ‘Wretch! have you not wasted goods and possessions, and now do you talk of making a will?’
And she seized him like a fury, and tried to scratch out his eyes. But by-and-by the quarrel was patched up, and everything went on as before. From that day Peter saved up every penny that his daughter Lucia gave him
