Short Stories
and tied a muffler round his throat, and started off.
“What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that
little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he
could scarcely stand. However, he was very courageous, and af-
ter he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the
Doctor’s house, and knocked at the door.
“‘Who is there?’ cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his
bedroom window.
“‘Little Hans, Doctor.’
“’What do you want, little Hans?’
“‘The Miller’s son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt him-
self, and the Miller wants you to come at once.’
“‘All right!’ said the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his
big boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in
the direction of the Miller’s house, little Hans trudging behind
him.
“But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in
torrents, and little Hans could not see where he was going, or
keep up with the horse.
At last he lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, which
was a very dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and
there poor little Hans was drowned. His body was found the
next day by some goatherds, floating in a great pool of water,
and was brought back by them to the cottage.
“Everybody went to little Hans’ funeral, as he was so popu-
lar, and the Miller was the chief mourner.
“‘As I was his best friend,’ said the Miller, ‘it is only fair that I
should have the best place’; so he walked at the head of the
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