shrieked Pinkel , falling on his knees , and looking wildly about him . ` Spare you , indeed , you thief ! Where are my lantern and my goat ? No ! not ! there is only one fate for robbers ! ' And she brandished the knife in the air so that it glittered in the firelight . ` Then , if I must die , ' said Pinkel , who , by this time , was getting really rather frightened , ` let me at least choose the manner of my death . I am very hungry , for I have had nothing to eat all day . Put some poison , if you like , into the porridge , but at least let me have a good meal before I die . ' ` That is not a bad idea , ' answered the woman ; ` as long as you do die , it is all one to me . ' And ladling out a large bowl of porridge , she stirred some poisonous herbs into it , and set about work that had to be done . Then Pinkel hastily poured all the contents of the bowl into his bag , and make a great noise with his spoon , as if he was scraping up the last morsel . ` Poisoned or not , the porridge is excellent . I have eaten it , every scrap ; do give me some more , ' said Pinkel , turning towards her . ` Well , you have a fine appetite , young man , ' answered the witch ; ` however , it is the last time you will ever eat it , so I will give you another bowlful . ' And rubbing in the poisonous herbs , she poured him out half of what remained , and then went to the window to call her cat . In an instant Pinkel again emptied the porridge into the bag , and the next minute he rolled on the floor , twisting himself about as if in agony , uttering loud groans the while . Suddenly he grew silent and lay still . ` Ah !
I thought a second dose XXXXX that poison would be too much for you , ' said the witch looking at him . '
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