mountains, and, having brought them home, had made them into strings of
sausages. These were hanging in graceful festoons from the beams of the
kitchen ceiling, awaiting the time when they should be eaten.

Now when the dancing-bear sausages heard the music of Fiddlecumdoo's
violin, they could not resist dancing; for it is well known that
sausages made from real dancing-bears can not remain quiet where there
is music. The Prince was playing such a lively tune, that presently the
strings of sausage broke away from the ceiling and fell clattering to
the floor, where they danced about furiously. Not being able to see
where they were going, they bumped against the giant and his wife,
thumping them on their heads and backs, and pounding them so severely
that the woman became frightened and hid under the table, while the
giant started to run away.

Seeing their plight, Fiddlecumdoo stopped playing, and at once the
sausages fell to the floor and lay still.

"That was strange," said the giant, as soon as he could catch his
breath; "the bears evidently do not forget how to dance even after they
are chopped up into sausage meat. I must beg you to abandon your
concert for the present, but before you visit us again we shall have
eaten the sausages, and then you may play to your heart's content."

"Had I known they were so lively," remarked the giantess, as she
crawled from beneath the table, "we should have eaten them before
this."

"That reminds me that I intended to have stewed polar bears for
supper," continued the giant; "so I think I will walk over into Alaska