There was once a poor woodchopper. This woodchopper said one day to his woman: "There sits no dry bread in it. I work myself an accident the whole day, but you and the twelve children have not to eaten. I see the future dark in." His woman agreed. "We must try to fit a sleeve to it", the woodchopper said, "I have a plan. Tomorrow we shall go on step with the children and then in the middle of the wood, we'll leave them to their fate over." His woman almost went off her little stick when she heard this. "What is there on the hand with you ?" she said, "Aren't you good sob ?" But the woodchopper wasn't brought off his piece. "There sits nothing else on", he said. Little Thumpie, the youngest son, had listened off his parents.
The next morning before day and dew he went out filled his pockets with little stones. During the walk in the wood he dropped them one by one unmarked-up. Then the parents told the children to sprockle some wood and shined the plate. Then the parents didn't come for the day anymore, the children knew they had been left in the stitch. Soon the waterlanders appeared. But Thumpie said: "Don't sit down by the packages, we can go home, we follow the stones." The parents said as they turned up: "How have you lapped him that ?" "No art on", said Thumpie, and he explained. "If you want to be rid of us you will have to stand up a little bit earlier."
This is just what the parents did. This time there came no pebbles on to pass, all Thumpie had was a piece of dry bread. This bread must believe on it and he left a trail of breadcrumbs, but didn't have it in the holes that they were made into soldiers by the birds. His parents departed with the northern sun as on the day before and Thumpie couldn't help. What now ? The sun was already under, it was raining pipestems and the crying stood him nearer than the laughing.
At last he saw a little light through the trees and it was a house. The lady who stood him to word was a giantess. She was him what to eat but little Thumpie got the feeling that something wasn't knocking. He had understood that giantess' man, the giant, was a people-eater, who loved the flesh of little children. If we don't pass up, he thought, we shall be the cigar. As soon as he saw his chance clean he took the legs and smeared him. Then the giant came home, he sniffed the air and bellowed: "I smell people flesh! Woman, why have you let them go there from through ? Bring me my seven-milesboots. I go them behind after!"
He was about to haul the children in, but wonder above wonder, just then he decided to lie down to snap a little owl. "Shoot up and help me," little Thumpie said to his brothers and sisters as soon as the giant lay there pipping, "we must see to make him the seven-milesboots off-handy !" He squeezed him like an old thief but then went ahead and knew him to draw his boots out. "Now we must make that we come away," little Thumpie said. He put on the boots and quickly made himself out of the feet. Carrying his brothers and sisters along. Also he'd seen chance to roll the giant's pockets and pick in all his goldpieces.