So Marlinchen went to him and said, “Brother, give me the apple.” But he was silent, and she gave him a box on the ear, on which his head fell down. Marlinchen was terrified, and began crying and screaming, and ran to her mother, and said, “Alas, mother, I have knocked my brother’s head off!” and she wept and wept and could not be comforted.

“Marlinchen,” said the mother, “what hast thou done? but be quiet and let no one know it; it cannot be helped now, we will make him into black-puddings.” Then the mother took the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the pan and made him into black puddings; but Marlinchen stood by weeping and weeping, and all her tears fell into the pan and there was no need of any salt.

Then the father came home, and sat down to dinner and said, “But where is my son?” And the mother served up a great dish of black-puddings, and Marlinchen wept and could not leave off. Then the father again said, “But where is my son?”