Rozennik was a pretty girl , who knew how to make the best of everything , and she could , if she wished , have chosen a husband from the young men of Plouhinec , but she cared for none of them except Bernez , whom she had played with all her life , and Bernez , though he worked hard , was so very very poor that Marzinne told him roughly he must look elsewhere for a wife . But whatever Marzinne might say Rozennik smiled and nodded to him as before , and would often turn her head as she passed , and sing snatches of old songs over her shoulder . Christmas Eve had come , and all the men who worked under Marzinne or on the farms round about were gathered in the large kitchen to eat the soup flavoured with honey followed by rich puddings , to which they were always invited on this particular night . In the middle of the table was a large wooden bowl , with wooden spoons placed in a circle round it , so that each might dip in his turn . The benches were filled , and Marzinne was about to give the signal , when the door was suddenly thrown open , and an old man came in , wishing the guests a good appetite for their supper . There was a pause , and some of the faces looked a little frightened ; for the new-comer was well known to them as a beggar , who was also said to be a wizard who cast spells over the cattle , and caused the corn to grow black , and old people to die , of what , nobody knew . Still , it was Christmas Eve , and besides it was as well not to offend him , so the farmer invited him in , and gave him a seat at the table and a wooden spoon like the rest . There was not much talk after the beggar 's entrance , and everyone was glad when the meal came to an end , and the beggar asked if he might sleep in the stable , as he should die of cold if he were left outside . Rather unwillingly Marzinne gave him leave , and bade Bernez take the key and unlock the door . There was certainly plenty of room for a dozen beggars , for the only occupants of the stable were an old donkey and a thin ox ; and as the night was bitter , the wizard lay down between them for warmth , with a sack of reeds for a pillow . He had walked far that day , and even wizards get tired sometimes , so in spite of the hard floor he was just dropping off to sleep , when midnight struck from the church tower of Plouhinec . At this sound the donkey raised her head and shook her ears , and turned towards the ox . ` Well , my dear cousin , ' said she , ` and how have you fared since last Christmas Eve , when we had a conversation together ? ' Instead of answering at once , the ox eyed the beggar with a long look of disgust . ` What is the use of talking , ' he replied roughly , ` when a good-for-nothing creature like that can hear all we say ? ' ` Oh , you must n't lose time in grumbling , ' rejoined the donkey gaily , ` and do n't you see that the wizard is asleep ? ' ` His wicked pranks do not make him rich , certainly , ' said the ox , ` and he is n't even clever enough to have found out what a piece of luck might befall him a week hence . ' ` What piece of luck ? ' asked the donkey . ` Why , do n't you know , ' inquired the ox , ` that once very hundred years the stones on Plouhinec heath go down to drink at the river , and that while they are away the treasures underneath them are uncovered ? '
` Ah , I remember now , ' replied the donkey , ` but the stones return so quickly XXXXX their places , that you certainly would be crushed to death unless you have in your hands a bunch of crowsfoot and of five-leaved trefoil . '
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