Astrid Lindgren, illustrated by Ilon Wikland, translated from the Swedish by Jill Morgan by Astrid Lindgren Page B

said. “We can play the old melody, until hunger overtakes us and we fall asleep.”
    â€œYes, let’s play once more,” whispered Pompoo.
    We took out our flutes. Our tired hands scarcely had the strength to grasp them, but we played the old melody. Pompoo cried so much as he played, tears ran quietly down his cheeks. Maybe I cried as much, I don’t know. The old melody was beautiful, but sounded so faint, as if it knew that before long it would also die. Although we played quietly, the Bewitched Birds heard us. They heard the faint notes and flew over to our small window. Through the bars I saw their blank, melancholy eyes. But the birds disappeared and we had no strength to continue playing.
    â€œNow we’ve played for the last time,” I said as I stuffed the flute back in my pocket.
    There was something else in my pocket and I stuck my hand down to feel what it was. It was the little spoon that had belonged to Totty’s sister.

    I wished the Bewitched Birds would come back, so I could show them the spoon. Perhaps Totty’s sister would recognize it. But the Bewitched Birds were no longer in front of our small window.
    I let the spoon fall to the floor, since my hand was so tired.
    â€œLook, Pompoo,” I said. “We have a spoon.”
    â€œWe have a spoon,” said Pompoo, “but what will we do with the spoon, when we have no food?”
    Pompoo lay down on the floor and shut his eyes. He had no strength to say more. I was tired, so tired. I ached for something to eat. Anything, absolutely anything would do, as long as it was edible. Most of all I longed for the Bread That Satisfies Hunger, but I knew that I would never taste it again. I was also thirsty and longed for water from the Well That Quenches Thirst. But I knew that I would never drink again. Never drink, never eat again. I thought about the porridge that Aunt Hulda had given me every morning which I thought was bad. I would’ve eaten that porridge now and thought that it was good. Oh, I wanted something to eat . . . anything! With my last ounce of strength I grabbed the spoon and stuffed it in my mouth and pretended that I ate.
    I felt something wonderful in my mouth. There was something in the spoon to eat. Something that tasted like the Bread That Satisfies Hunger and like the water from the Well That Quenches Thirst. Bread and water were in the spoon and it had the most wonderful taste. It replenished my strength and my hunger disappeared. Strangely enough, the spoon did not become empty. It filled completely with more food each time I ate, and I ate until I could eat no more.
    Pompoo lay on the floor with his eyes shut. I placed the spoon in his mouth and he ate in his sleep. He lay there with his eyes shut and ate. When he finished, he said, “Oh, Mio, I had such a wonderful dream. The dream will make it easier to die. I dreamed of the Bread That Satisfies Hunger.”
    â€œIt wasn’t a dream,” I said.
    Pompoo opened his eyes and sat up. He knew that he still lived and was no longer hungry. We were both amazed, almost content in our misery.
    â€œBut what will Sir Kato do with us, since we haven’t died of hunger?” said Pompoo.
    â€œIf only he doesn’t give us hearts of stone,” I said. “I’m afraid of having a heart of stone. I think it would grind painfully in my chest.”
    â€œThe night isn’t over,” said Pompoo. “Sir Kato won’t be here for hours. Let’s sit here and talk of Farawayland, as the hours go by. Let’s sit close together and keep each other warm.”
    It was so cold in the tower and we were freezing. My cloak slipped off. It was lying on the floor and I grabbed it and wrapped it around myself. My cloak that the Weaver had lined with fairy cloth.
    That instant I heard a cry from Pompoo, “Mio! Mio, where are you?”
    â€œI’m here,” I said. “By the door.”
    Pompoo held up the