satisfaction all the bread he had brought with him for his noonday and
evening meals, and washed it down with a glass of beer, to buy which he
spent his two last farthings. This over, he drove his cow farther, but
still in the direction of his mother's village. The heat meantime became
more and more oppressive as noontime approached, and just then Hans came
to a common which was an hour's journey across. Here he got into such a
state of heat that his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, and he
thought to himself: "This won't do; I will just milk my cow, and refresh
myself." Hans, therefore tied her to a stump of a tree, and, having no
pail, placed his leathern cap below, and set to work, but not a drop of
milk could he squeeze out. He had placed himself, too, very awkwardly,
and at last the impatient cow gave him such a kick on the head that he
tumbled over on the ground, and for a long time knew not where he was.
Fortunately, not many hours after, a Butcher passed by, trundling a
young pig along upon a wheelbarrow. "What trick is this!" exclaimed he,
helping up poor Hans; and Hans told him that all that had passed. The
Butcher then handed him his flask and said, "There, take a drink; it
will revive you. Your cow might well give no milk: she is an old beast,
and worth nothing at the best but for the plough or the butcher!"

"Eh! eh!" said Hans, pulling his hair over his eyes, "who would have
thought it? It is all very well when one can kill a beast like that at
home, and make a profit of the flesh; but for my part I have no relish
for cow's flesh; it is too tough for me! Ah! a young pig like yours is
the thing that tastes something like, let alone the sausages!"

"Well now, for love of you," said the Butcher, "I will make an exchange,
and let you have my pig for your cow."

"Heaven reward you for your kindness!" cried Hans; and, giving up the