Excerpt: ...When Ned heard that, he jumped up and went behind the door where he had hung his knapsack. Taking out the Magic Axe, he laid it on the table before the donkey-eared man. 89 "Cut off my ears!" shouted the donkey-eared man. "I can't do it," said Ned, trembling all over. "Do as I ask you," begged the donkey-eared man, laying his head on the table. Instead, however, Ned touched the donkey ears with his little magic gold ring, at the same time whispering, "Away with you!" Off went the long, hairy ears, and the next minute, two grew in their place, just like yours and mine. "Oh, now I'm free from donkey ears, Three cheers and once, again, three cheers! No more the witch's evil snare Shall force me donkey ears to wear!" sang the donkey-eared man, dancing about the room. All the next day Ned trudged on alone 90 until towards evening, he came to the edge of a pine-forest, where close at hand stood a small hut made of pine-branches, plastered with mud and thatched with rye-straw. No sooner had he tapped on the door than it was opened by a girl. She looked out timidly, thinking, I suppose, it might be a robber. But when she saw Ned, she smiled. "Come in," she said, and Ned saw four small children staring curiously at him. The room was very smoky, for there was no chimney to the rude hut. A hole in the roof let the smoke out, and there were no windows, for the father of these children was a poor peasant who made his living by gathering turpentine in the pine forest. Ned sat down, while the girl went on with her work until the black beans were ready for supper, when she put them all in 91 a big wooden bowl, and invited Ned to join her and the four children. While they were eating out of the bowl with a wooden spoon, a tame jackdaw who had been sitting on an old stool by the fireside, hopped over and perched himself close to Ned. When the supper was over, and the children were ready for bed, he whispered, "This little family is very poor. Their father is away...