"In the black cow," was the reply.
However, the master could not understand what was meant, and so went
away.
The following morning the cow was killed, but fortunately in the cutting
up the knife did not touch Tom Thumb, who was put aside with the meat
that was to be made into sausages.
When the butcher began chopping, he cried as loudly as he could--
"Don't chop far, I am down beneath," but the chopper made so much noise,
that he attracted no attention.
It was indeed a terrible situation for poor Tom. But being in danger
brightens one's wits, and he sprang so nimbly, this way and that,
keeping clear of the chopper, that not a blow struck him, and he did not
get even a scratch.
However, he could not escape, there was no help for it, he was forced
into a skin with the sausage meat, so was compelled to make himself as
comfortable as might be. It was very close quarters, and besides that,
the sausages were suspended to smoke in the chimney, which was by no
means entertaining, and the time passed slowly.
When winter came, he was taken down for a guest's meal, and while the
hostess was slicing the sausage he had to be on his guard, lest if he
stretched out his head it might be cut off.
Watching his opportunity, at last he was able to jump out of the
sausage, and right glad was he to be once again in the company of his
fellow-men.
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