HERE was once a child who was so big and strong that he thought he was a man.
"See!" he said to his mother. "I am a man! Give me my father's sword, and I will take care of you."
"That will be beautiful!" said his mother; and she gave him the sword, and sighed and smiled.
The child held the sword lightly, he was so strong, and brandished it about.
"Look!" he said. "I can wield it easily. If we meet a lion or a bear on the road, I will kill it with one blow, thus!"
"That will be glorious!" said the mother; and she sighed and smiled.
But when the child put the sword back in the sheath, it chanced that he caught his finger on a pin that was about his dress, and tore the flesh.
"Oh, mother!" he cried. "This dreadful pin has scratched my finger. Look! here is a great drop of blood! oh! how it hurts!" and he wept bitterly.
"Thank God!" said the mother. "You are still a child."
And she kissed the finger, and bound it up, and wept too, for joy.