“Then you can do me a favour,” said the ferryman, “and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards and forwards, and am never set free?”

“You shall know that,” answered he; “only wait until I come back.”

When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to Hell. It was black and sooty within, and the Devil was not at home, but his grandmother was sitting in a large armchair. “What do you want?” said she to him, but she did not look so very wicked.

“I should like to have three golden hairs from the devil’s head,” answered he, “else I cannot keep my wife.”

“That is a good deal to ask for,” said she; “if the devil comes home and finds you, it will cost you your life; but as I pity you, I will see if I cannot help you.”

She changed him into an ant and said, “Creep into the folds of my dress, you will be safe there.”