"Nothing could be better," said the old couple. They were delighted.
But what pleases the father often fails to satisfy the son: moreover,
every man thinks that he deserves just a little more than he has got,
and does not reckon it to the purpose if his father had less.

Many a one would be thankful to have as good reasons for contentment
as he who had Good Luck for his godfather.

If he fell, Good Luck popped something soft in the way to break his
fall; if he fought, Good Luck directed his blows, or tripped up his
adversary; if he got into a scrape, Good Luck helped him out of it;
and if ever Misfortune met him, Good Luck contrived to hustle her on
the pathway till his godson got safely by.

In games of hazard the godfather played over his shoulder. In matters
of choice he chose for him. And when the lad began to work on his
father's farm the farmer began to get rich. For no bird or field-mouse
touched a seed that his son had sown, and every plant he planted
throve when Good Luck smiled on it.

The boy was not fond of work, but when he did go into the fields, Good
Luck followed him.

"Your christening-day was a blessed day for us all," said the old
farmer.

"He has never given me so much as a lucky sixpence," muttered Good
Luck's godson.