Then she
arose from her chair and went once more to the closet in the wall. This
time she took from it a little sack woven of black goat's hair. "When
you have found your luck again, put it into this little bag," said she;
"once in it, no evil imp will be able to get out again so long as you
keep the strings tied. And now good-bye!"
[Illustration: Hans Hecklemann and the Old Wise-Woman]
Then Hans slipped the little sack into his pocket, and set out for the
overturned stone cross where the three roads meet. When he had come to
the place, he looked here and there, and this way and that, but for a
long time he could see nothing at all. At last, after much looking, he
beheld a little black beetle running hither and thither on the stone. "I
wonder," said Hans, "if this can be my luck."
So saying, he caught the little beetle betwixt his finger and thumb, but
very carefully, for he could not tell whether or not it might bite him.
The beetle stuck to the stone as though it had been glued there, but, at
last, Hans pulled it away; then--lo! it was not a beetle that he held in
his hand, but a little manikin about as long as your thumb and as black
as ink. Hans Hecklemann was so frightened that he nearly dropped it, for
it kicked and screeched and rolled its red eyes in a very ugly way as he
held it. However, he popped it into the little sack and pulled the
strings tight, and there it was, safe and sound.
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