A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer in an egg-shell. Then the little louse fell in and burnt herself. On this the little flea began to scream loudly. Then said the little room-door: Little flea, why art thou screaming? – Because the louse has burnt herself. Then the little door began to creak. On this a little broom in the corner said: Why art thou creaking, little door? – Have I not reason to creak? The little louse has burnt herself, The little flea is weeping. So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart passed by and said: Why art thou sweeping, little broom? – Have I not reason to sweep? The little louse has burnt herself, The little flea is weeping, The little door is creaking. So the little cart said: Then I will run, and began to run wildly.