Are piled ploughs and harrows,
With rakes, spades, and hatchets,
And all kinds of iron-ware,
And pliable wood
To make rims for the cart-wheels. 230
And, oh, what a hubbub
Of bargaining, swearing,
Of jesting and laughter!
And who could help laughing?

A limp little peasant
Is bending and testing
The wood for the wheel-rims.
One piece does not please him;
He takes up another
And bends it with effort; 240
It suddenly straightens,
And whack!--strikes his forehead.
The man begins roaring,
Abusing the bully,
The duffer, the block-head.
Another comes driving
A cart full of wood-ware,
As tipsy as can be;
He turns it all over!
The axle is broken, 250
And, trying to mend it,
He smashes the hatchet.

He gazes upon it,