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 linek, but nobody had. So poor Granny just cried and cried, she was so lonely and sad.

One day an organ-grinder with a wooden leg began playing in front of Granny’s cottage. The music made her think of Budulinek.

“Organ-grinder,” Granny said, “here’s a penny for you. But, please, don’t play any more. Your music makes me cry.”

“Why does it make you cry?” the organ-grinder asked.

“Because it reminds me of Budulinek,” Granny said, and she told the organ-grinder all about Budulinek and how somebody had stolen him away.

The organ-grinder said:

“Poor Granny! I tell you what I’ll do: as I go around and play my organ I’ll keep my eyes open for Budulinek. If I find him I’ll bring him back to you.”

“Will you?” Granny cried. “If you bring me back my little Budulinek I’ll give you a measure of rye and a measure of millet and a measure of poppy seed and a measure of everything in the house!”

So the organ-grinder went off and everywhere he played his organ he looked for Budulinek. But he couldn’t find him.

At last one day while he was walking through the