Der var engang et uartigt, lille barn, som ikke ville gøre, hvad dets mor sagde. Derfor var Vorherre slet ikke glad for det, og lod det blive syg. Ingen læge kunne hjælpe det, og kort tid efter døde det. Da kisten var sat ned i graven og jorden var kastet til, så man pludselig dets lille arm stikke i vejret. Det hjalp ikke, at den blev lagt ned og jorden dækket over igen, armen kom stadig ud. Moderen måtte da selv gå ud til graven og give det et slag over armen, sådan som hun havde gjort da barnet levede. Så blev armen trukket ned under jorden og barnet havde ro i sin grav.
Once upon a time there was a child who was willful, and would not dowh at her mother wished. For this reason God had no pleasure in her, and let her become ill, and no doctor could do her any good, and in a short time she lay on her death-bed. When she had been lowered into her grave, and the earth was spread over her, all at once her arm came out again, and stretched upwards, and when they had put it in and spread fresh earth over it, it was all to no purpose, for the arm always came out again. Then the mother herself was obliged to go to the grave, and strike the arm with a rod, and when she had done that, it was drawn in, and then at last the child had rest beneath the ground.