“Why not?” he answered, “I am not afraid of any kind of work, however hard it may be.” The old woman let him go in, and gave him some food and a good bed at night.

The next morning when he had had his sleep out, she took a thimble from her wrinkled finger, reached it to the drummer, and said, “Go to work now, and empty out the pond with this thimble; but thou must have it done before night, and must have sought out all the fishes which are in the water and laid them side by side, according to their kind and size.”

“That is strange work,” said the drummer, but he went to the pond, and began to empty it. He baled the whole morning; but what can anyone do to a great lake with a thimble, even if he were to bale for a thousand years?

When it was noon, he thought, “It is all useless, and whether I work or not it will come to the same thing.”