Grimms Fairy Tales | Page 8

the cow good morning, and away he rode.
Hans brushed his coat, wiped his face and hands, rested a while, and then drove off his
cow quietly, and thought his bargain a very lucky one. 'If I have only a piece of bread
(and I certainly shall always be able to get that), I can, whenever I like, eat my butter and
cheese with it; and when I am thirsty I can milk my cow and drink the milk: and what can
I wish for more?' When he came to an inn, he halted, ate up all his bread, and gave away
his last penny for a glass of beer. When he had rested himself he set off again, driving his
cow towards his mother's village. But the heat grew greater as soon as noon came on, till
at last, as he found himself on a wide heath that would take him more than an hour to
cross, he began to be so hot and parched that his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. 'I
can find a cure for this,' thought he; 'now I will milk my cow and quench my thirst': so he
tied her to the stump of a tree, and held his leathern cap to milk into; but not a drop was
to be had. Who would have thought that this cow, which was to bring him milk and butter
and cheese, was all that time utterly dry? Hans had not thought of looking to that.
While he was trying his luck in milking, and managing the matter very clumsily, the
uneasy beast began to think him very troublesome; and at last gave him such a kick on
the head as knocked him down; and there he lay a long while senseless. Luckily a butcher
soon came by, driving a pig in a wheelbarrow. 'What is the matter with you, my man?'
said the butcher, as he helped him up. Hans told him what had happened, how he was dry,
and wanted to milk his cow, but found the cow was dry too. Then the butcher gave him a
flask of ale, saying, 'There, drink and refresh yourself; your cow will give you no milk:
don't you see she is an old beast, good for nothing but the slaughter-house?' 'Alas, alas!'
said Hans, 'who would have thought it? What a shame to take my horse, and give me only
a dry cow! If I kill her, what will she be good for? I hate cow-beef; it is not tender enough
for me. If it were a pig now --like that fat gentleman you are driving along at his
ease--one could do something with it; it would at any rate make sausages.' 'Well,' said the
butcher, 'I don't like to say no, when one is asked to do a kind, neighbourly thing. To
please you I will change, and give you my fine fat pig for the cow.' 'Heaven reward you
for your kindness and self-denial!' said Hans, as he gave the butcher the cow; and taking
the pig off the wheel-barrow, drove it away, holding it by the string that was tied to its
leg.
So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go right with him: he had met with some
misfortunes, to be sure; but he was now well repaid for all. How could it be otherwise
with such a travelling companion as he had at last got?

The next man he met was a countryman carrying a fine white goose. The countryman
stopped to ask what was o'clock; this led to further chat; and Hans told him all his luck,
how he had so many good bargains, and how all the world went gay and smiling with him.
The countryman than began to tell his tale, and said he was going to take the goose to a
christening. 'Feel,' said he, 'how heavy it is, and yet it is only eight weeks old. Whoever
roasts and eats it will find plenty of fat upon it, it has lived so well!' 'You're right,' said
Hans, as he weighed it in his hand; 'but if you talk of fat, my pig is no trifle.' Meantime
the countryman began to look grave, and shook his head. 'Hark ye!' said he, 'my worthy
friend, you seem a good sort of fellow, so I can't help doing you a kind turn. Your pig
may get you into a scrape. In the village I just came from, the squire has had a pig stolen
out of his sty. I was dreadfully afraid when I saw you that you had got the squire's pig. If
you have, and they catch you, it will be a bad job for you. The least they will do will be to
throw