Page:Tales of old Lusitania.djvu/113



upon a time there lived a good honest man and his wife, who, although much attached to one another, yet lacked the happiness and blessing of having a family. There were no bright merry faces around to cheer and gladden them, no joyous shouts of laughter through their cottage, nothing in fact that could solace and enliven them after their daily work.

The wife unceasingly prayed to God to give them a son; it would not matter, she said, if he were no bigger than a grain of Indian corn, so long as they had a child to love and cherish.

At last the poor woman's faith was rewarded, and her prayer was heard; and in due time a son was born to them, a chubby little fellow, but so small and tiny that he was no larger than a grain of Indian corn; and years passed by and yet he never grew an inch bigger, and from this circumstance he was named "Grain-o'-Maize."