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She'll never find out, so the third night 'tis clear My sweet friend, fair Helen, can't fail to be mine. Hurrah! for my name is KINKACH MARTINKO, Hurrah! for my boots are of doggies' skin O!" "Now that is exactly what you want to know, my dear girl; so do not forget, and you are saved." And with these words the old man vanished.
"Your name is KINKACH MARTINKO, and your boots are made of dogskin," she replied without the slightest hesitation. At these words he spun round on the floor like a bobbin, tore out his hair and beat his breast with rage, roaring so that the very walls trembled. "It is lucky for you that you have guessed.
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