The Man with the Evil Eye
The little girl ran home. At first she was happy.
"My mother is there, in the house next to ours!" she thought. "I saw her again. She is still my dear, dear mother."
But soon she was sad.
"Why didn't she talk to me?" she thought. "Why didn't she sit up and kiss me? Is she really dead, or is she half alive?"
Then she felt angry.
"Why is my mother in my friend's house? Is her father keeping her there? Why didn't he tell my father? What is he doing to her?"
She heard a donkey outside the house.
"My father is home," she thought. "What shall I tell him? I can't keep this secret! It's too important. No, I'll tell him everything."
She ran outside. Her father was there.
"Father, listen! Today I saw my mother!" she said.
Her father was angry.
"Don't say stupid things," he said. "Your poor mother is dead."
"But I saw her, Father," the little girl said. "She is in our neighbour's house. Please, you must believe me."
And she told her father the story.
At first, her father didn't believe her, but the little girl talked and talked.
At last he said, "My child, if this is true, we must rescue your mother. What did the pot look like? Tell me again."
So the little girl told her father everything again.
"There are many pots in my friend's house," she said. "Some are big and others are small. But my mother's pot is very beautiful. Only the top is a little broken. There is a chip in the top of it."
"Your mother was very beautiful," said the man, "only there was a chip in her tooth."
He believed his daughter now.
"All right," he said, "I must think. I must make a plan."