But it was no easy matter to manage his new bargain. The goose turned
out to be a very disagreeable companion; for, finding itself no longer
on the ground, it fought with its bill, its feet, and its wings, so that
Gudbrand was soon tired of struggling to hold it.

'Pah!' growled he; 'the goose is an ugly, ill-grained creature, and my
wife never would have one about the house.' With this reflection, he
changed the goose, at the first farm-house he came to, for a fine
rooster of rich plumage and furnished with a grand pair of spurs.

This time, he was thoroughly satisfied. The rooster, it is true,
squawked from time to time, in a voice rather too hoarse to gratify most
delicate ears; but as his claws had been tied together with twine and he
was carried head downwards, he finally gave up and resigned himself to
his fate. The only unpleasant circumstance now remaining was that the
day was rapidly drawing to a close. Gudbrand, who had started before
dawn, now found himself fasting, at sundown, without a farthing in his
pocket. He still had a long walk before him, and the good man felt that
his legs were giving out and that his stomach craved refreshment. Some
bold step must be taken; and so, at the first wayside tavern, Gudbrand
sold his rooster for a shilling, and as he had a raging appetite, he
spent the last doit of it for his supper.

'After all,' said he, the while, 'what use would a rooster be to me, if
I had to die of hunger?'

As he, at length, drew near his own dwelling, however, Gudbrand began to
meditate seriously on the curious turn things had taken with him, and,
before entering his home, he stopped at the door of Peter the Gray