<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>XIV<br/> <br/> <span class="f8">SELF DID IT</span></h2>
<p class="cap"><span class="upper">Once</span> upon a time there was a mill, in which it
was impossible to grind flour, because such
strange things kept happening there. But there was
a poor woman who was in urgent need of a little
meal one evening, and she asked whether they would
not allow her to grind a little flour during the night.
“For heaven’s sake,” said the mill-owner, “that is
quite impossible! There are ghosts enough in the
mill as it is.” But the woman said that she must
grind a little; for she did not have a pinch of flour
in the house with which to make mush, and there was
nothing for her children to eat. So at last he allowed
her to go to the mill at night and grind some
flour. When she came, she lit a fire under a big tar-barrel
that was standing there; got the mill going,
sat down by the fire, and began to knit. After a time
a girl came in and nodded to her. “Good evening!”
said she to the woman. “Good evening!” said the
woman; kept her seat, and went on knitting. But
then the girl who had come in began to pull apart
the fire on the hearth. The woman built it up again.</p>
<p>“What is your name?” asked the girl from underground.</p>
<p>“Self is my name,” said the woman.</p>
<p>That seemed a curious name to the girl, and she<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</SPAN></span>
once more began to pull the fire apart. Then the
woman grew angry and began to scold, and built it
all up again. Thus they went on for a good while;
but at last, while they were in the midst of their
pulling apart and building up of the fire, the woman
upset the tar-barrel on the girl from underground.
Then the latter screamed and ran away, crying:</p>
<p>“Father, father! Self burned me!”</p>
<p>“Nonsense, if self did it, then self must suffer
for it!” came the answer from below the hill.</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p class="center">NOTE</p>
<p>“Self Did It” (Asbjörnsen, <cite lang="no" xml:lang="no">Huldreeventyr</cite>, I, p. 10. From the
vicinity of Sandakar, told by a half-grown boy) belongs to the cycle
of the Polyphemus fairy-tales, with a possible glimmer of the old
belief that beings low in the mythological scale are most easily controlled
by fire.</p>
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