` What 's that you 're humming ? ' asked the old man . ` Oh , only the words of an old rhyme that keeps running in my head , ' answered the old woman ; and she raised her voice and went on : Oh , Ahti , with the long , long beard , Who dwellest in the deep blue sea , A thousand cows are in thy herd , I pray thee give one onto me . ` That 's a stupid sort of song , ' said Matte . ` What else should one beg of the sea-king but fish ? But such songs are not for Sunday . ' His wife pretended not to hear him , and sang and sang the same tune all the time they were on the water . Matte heard nothing more as he sat and rowed the heavy boat , while thinking of his cracked pipe and the fine tobacco . Then they returned to the island , and soon after went to bed . But neither Matte nor Maie could sleep a wink ; the one thought of how he had profaned Sunday , and the other of Ahti 's cow . About midnight the fisherman sat up , and said to his wife : ` Dost thou hear anything ? ' ` No , ' said she . ' I think the twirling of the weathercock on the roof bodes ill , ' said he ; ` we shall have a storm . ' ` Oh , it is nothing but your fancy , ' said his wife . Matte lay down , but soon rose again . ` The weathercock is squeaking now , ' said he . ` Just fancy ! Go to sleep , ' said his wife ; and the old man tried to . For the third time he jumped out of bed . ` Ho !
how the weather-cock is roaring at the pitch of its XXXXX , as if it had a fire inside it !
bed fancy fisherman herd island pipe thought voice wife woman