"Oh, mother!" says she, "look at that horrible axe! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to fetch the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing that would be!""Dear, dear! What a dreadful thing that would be!" said the mother, and she sat herself down aside of her daughter and started crying too. Then after a bit the father began to wonder why they didn't come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they were, two of them sat crying, and the beer running all over the floor. "Whatever is the matter?" says he. "Why," says the mother, "look at that horrid axe. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to fetch the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and would kill him, what a dreadful thing that would be!""Dear, dear, dear! So he would!" said the father, and he sat himself down aside the other two, and started crying. Now the gentleman got tired of stopping in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were after; and there they were, sat crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap.