And Fritzl,where was he?He was in the kitchen,frying a string of juicy sausages for his breakfast.There he sat,holding the pan over the fire,and as the sausage was sizzling and frizzling in the pan,Fritzl was lost in pleasant thoughts.
"A mug of cider now,"that's what he was thinking."A mug of apple cider with my sausage--that would be just the thing."
No sooner thought than done.
Fritzl set the pan on the edge of the fire place,and went down into the cellar where there was a big barrel full of cider.He pulled the bung from the barrel and watched the cider spurt into his mug,sparkling and foaming so that it was a joy to see.
But Hulla!What was that noise up in the kitchen--such a scuffle and clatter!Could it be that Spitz-dog after the sausages?Yes,that's what it was,and when Fritzl reached the top of the stairs,there he was,that dog,dashing out of the kitchen door with the string of juicy sausages flying after him.
Fritzl made for him,crying,"Hulla!Hulla!Hey,hi,ho,hulla!"
But the dog wouldn't stop.Fritzl ran,Spitz ran too.Fritzl ran fast,Spitz ran faster,and the end of it was that the dog got away and our Fritzl had to give up the chase.
