A father was one day sitting at dinner with his wife and his children, and a good friend who had come on a visit was with them. And as they thus sat, and it was striking twelve o'clock, the stranger saw the door open, and a very pale child dressed in snow-white clothes came in. It did not look around, and it did not speak; but went straight into the next room. Soon afterwards it came back, and went out at the door again in the same quiet manner. On the second and on the third day, it came also exactly in the same way. At last the stranger asked the father to whom the beautiful child that went into the next room every day at noon belonged? "I have never seen it," said he, neither did he know to whom it could belong. The next day when it again came, the stranger pointed it out to the father, who however did not see it, and the mother and the children also all saw nothing. On this the stranger got up, went to the room door, opened it a little, and peeped in. Then he saw the child sitting on the ground, and digging and seeking about industriously amongst the crevices between the boards of the floor, but when it saw the stranger, it disappeared. He now told what he had seen and described the child exactly, and the mother recognized it, and said, "Ah, it is my dear child who died a month ago." They took up the boards and found two farthings which the child had once received from its mother that it might give them to a poor man; it, however, had thought, "Thou canst buy thyself a biscuit for that," and had kept the farthings, and hidden them in the openings between the boards; and therefore it had had no rest in its grave, and had come every day at noon to seek for these farthings. The parents gave the money at once to a poor man, and after that the child was never seen again.
Der var engang en mand, som sad til bords med sin kone og sine børn og en god ven, der var kommet på besøg. Da klokken slog tolv, åbnedes døren og et lille blegt barn kom ind i snehvide klæder. Det så hverken til højre eller venstre, sagde ikke et ord og gik lige forbi dem ind i værelset ved siden af. Lidt efter kom det igen og gik ganske stille uå af døren. De to følgende dage gik det ligesådan, og den fremmede spurgte da faderen, hvem det smukke barn var, som hver dag gik igennem stuen. "Jeg har ikke set noget," svarede han, "og jeg kan heller ikke tænke mig, hvem det skulle være." Da det kom igen næste dag, viste manden det til de andre, men ingen af dem kunne se det. Han fulgte nu efter det ind i stuen, og så da, at det sad og gravede med fingrene i dørsprækken, men da det fik øje på den fremmede forsvandt det. Han fortalte nu, hvad han havde set, og beskrev barnet nøje, og moderen udbrød da: "Det må være mit eget barn, som er død for fire uger siden." De brækkede nu gulvet op og fandt en toøre, som barnet engang havde fået af sin mor for at give den til en fattig mand. Hun havde imidlertid tænkt: "Den kan jeg købe mig en tvebak for," og havde gemt den i gulvsprækken. Nu havde hun ikke haft ro i graven, men var kommet igen hver dag for at søge efter pengene. Forældrene gav toøren til en fattig mand, og siden den tid viste barnet sig aldrig mere.