As he drew back his novel weapon, now covered with blood, Peter
recollected that he had not closed the bung-hole of his cask, and that
all this time his beer was running to waste. So down he rushed again to
the cellar. Fortunately, the beer had ceased to run, but then that was
because not a drop remained in the cask.

He had now to begin his morning's work again, and churn some more butter
if he expected to see any dinner that day. So Peter visited the
dairy-house, and there found enough cream to replaced what he had just
lost. At it he goes again, and churns and churns away, more vigorously
than ever. But, in the midst of his churning, he remembers--a little
late to be sure, but better late than never--that the cow was still in
the stable, and that she had neither food nor water, although the sun
was now high above the horizon. Away he runs then to the stable. But
experience has made him wise: 'I've my little child there rolling on the
floor; now, if I leave the churn, the greedy scamp will turn it over,
and something worse might easily happen!' Whereupon, he takes up the
churn on his back and hastens to the well to draw water for the cow. The
well was deep, and the buckets did not go down far enough. So Peter
leans with all his might, in hot haste, on the rope, and away goes the
cream out of the churn, over his head and shoulders, into the well!

'Confound it!' said Peter between his teeth, 'it's clear that I'm to
have no butter to-day. Let's attend to the cow; it's too late to take
her out to pasture, but there's a fine lot of hay on the house-thatch
that hasn't been cut, and so she'll lose nothing by staying at home.' To
get the cow out of the stable and to put her on the house-roof was no
great trouble, for the dwelling was set in a hollow in the hill-side, so
that the thatch was almost on a level with the ground. A plank served
the purpose of a bridge, and behold the cow comfortably installed in her