Fidel was already looking in, with his tail standing straight out
behind, his ears pointed forward, and the hairs bristling on the
back of his neck. There, on some clean white sand in the bottom
of the wheelbarrow, wriggled a fine fat eel!

"Now I know why I didn't sell that eel," cried Granny. "There's
always a reason for everything, you see, my darlings."

She seized the eel with a firm, well-sanded hand as she spoke,
and before could spell your name backwards, she had skinned and
dressed it, and had given the remnants to poor hungry Fidel.
"Now, my boy," she said gayly to Jan as she worked, "you get
together some twigs and dead leaves, and you, Big Eyes," she
added to Marie, "find some stones by the river, and we'll soon
have such a stove as you never saw before, and a fire in it, and
a bit of fried eel, to fill your hungry stomachs."

Immensely cheered, the children flew on these errands. Then Marie
had a bright thought. "We have some potatoes in our bundle," she
said.

"Well, now," cried the little old woman, "wouldn't you think they
had just followed up that eel on purpose? We'll put them to roast
in the ashes. I always carry a pan and a bit of fat and some
matches about with me when I take my eels to market," she
explained as she whisked these things out of the basket, "and it
often happens that I cook myself a bite to eat on my way home,
especially if I'm late. You see, I live a long way from here,
just across the river from Boom, and I'm getting lazy in my old
age. Early every morning I walk to Malines with my barrow full of