                     THEr THREE WISHES

   Once upon a time . . . a woodcutter lived happily with his wife in a pretty
little log cabin in the middle of a thick forest. Each morning he set off 
singing to work, and when he came home in the evening, a plate of hot steaming 
soup was always waiting for him. 
   One day, however, he had a strange surprise. He came upon a big fir tree 
with strange open holes on the trunk. It looked somehow different from the 
other trees, and just as he was about to chop it down, the alarmed face of an 
elf popped out of a hole.
   "What's all this banging?" asked the elf. "You're not thinking of cutting 
down this tree, are you? It's my home. I live here!" The woodcutter dropped 
his axe in astonlshment.
   "Well, I . . ." he stammered.
   "With all the other trees there are in this forest, you have to pick this 
one. Lucky I was in, or I would have found myself homeless."
   Taken aback at these words, the woodcutter qulckly recovered, for after all
the elf was quite tiny, while he himself was a big hefty chap, and he boldly 
replied: "I'll cut down any tree I like, so . . ." 
   "All right! All right!" broke in the elf. "Shall we put it this way: if you
don't cut down this tree, I grant you three wishes. Agreed?" The woodcutter 
scratched his head. 
   "Three wishes, you say? Yes, I agree." And he began to hack at another 
tree. As he worked and sweated at his task, the woodcutter kept thinking about
the magic wishes. 
   "I'll see what my wife thinks..."
   The woodcutter's wife was busily cleaning a pot outside the house when her 
husband arrived. Grabbing her round the waist, he twirled her in delight.
   "Hooray! Hooray! Our luck is in!" 
   The woman could not understand why her husband was so pleased with himself 
and she shrugged herself free. Later, however, over a glass of fine wine at 
the table, the woodcutter told his wife of his meeting with the elf, and she 
too began to picture the wonderful things that the elf's three wishes might 
give them. The woodcutter's wife took a first sip of wine from her husband's 
glass.
   "Nice," she said, smacking her lips. "I wish I had a string of sausages to 
go with it, though..."
   Instantly she bit her tongue, but too late. Out of the air appeared the 
sausages while the woodcutter stuttered with rage.
   ". . . what have you done! Sausages . . . What a stupid waste of a wish! 
You foollsh woman. I wish they would stick up your nose!" No sooner sald than
done. For the sausages leapt up and stuck fast to the end of the woman's nose.
This time, the woodcutter's wife flew into a rage.
   "You idiot, what have you done? With all the things we could have wished 
for . . ." The mortified woodcutter, who had just repeated his wife's own 
mistake, exclaimed:
   "I'd chop . . ." Luckily he stopped himself in time, realizing with horror 
that he'd been on the point of having his tongue chopped off. As his wife 
complained and blamed him, the poor man burst out laughing.
   "If only you knew how funny you look with those sausages on the end of your
nose!" Now that really upset the woodcutter's wife. She hadn't thought of her 
looks. She tried to tug away the sausages but they would not budge. She pulled 
again and again, but in vain. The sausages were firmly attached to her nose. 
Terrified, she exclaimed: "They'll be there for the rest of my life!"
   Feeling sorry for his wife and wondering how he could ever put up with a 
woman with such an awkward nose, the woodcutter said: "I'll try." Grasping the
string of sausages, he tugged with all his might. But he simply pulled his 
wife over on top of him. The pair sat on the floor, gazing sadly at each other.
   "What shall we do now?" they said, each thinking the same thought.
   "There's only one thing we can do . . ." ventured the woodcutter's wife 
timidly.
   "Yes, I'm afraid so . . ." her husband sighed, remembering their dreams of 
riches, and he bravely wished the third and last wish "I wish the sausages 
would leave my wife's nose."
   And they did. Instantly, husband and wife hugged each other tearfully, 
saying "Maybe we'll be poor, but we'll be happy again!"
   That evening, the only reminder of the woodcutter's meeting with the elf 
was the string of sausages. So the couple fried them, gloomily thinking of 
what that meal had cost them.
