d with both its eyes, and looked very
cunning as it said, "Cluck, cluck." What were the thoughts of the fowl
as it said this I cannot tell you, but as soon as our good man saw it,
he thought, "Why, that's the finest fowl I ever saw in my life; it's
finer than our parson's brood hen, upon my word. I should like to have
that fowl. Fowls can always pick up a few grains that lie about, and
almost keep themselves. I think it would be a good exchange if I could
get it for my goose. Shall we exchange?" he asked the toll keeper.

"Exchange?" repeated the man. "Well, it would not be a bad thing."

So they made an exchange; the toll keeper at the turnpike gate kept the
goose, and the peasant carried off the fowl. Now he really had done a
great deal of business on his way to the fair, and he was hot and tired.
He wanted something to eat, and a glass of ale to refresh himself; so he
turned his steps to an inn. He was just about to enter, when the ostler
came out, and they met at the door. The ostler was carrying a sack.
"What have you in that sack?" asked the peasant.

"Rotten apples," answered the ostler; "a whole sackful of them. They
will do to feed the pigs with."

"Why, that will be terrible waste," the peasant replied. "I should like
to take them home to my old woman. Last year the old apple tree by the
grassplot bore only one apple, and we kept it in the cupboard till it
was quite withered and rotten. It was property, my old woman said. Here
she would see a great deal of property--a whole sackful. I should like
to show them to her."

"What will you give me for the sackful?" asked the ostler.

"What will I give? Well, I will give you my fowl in exchange."

So he gave up the fowl and received the apples, which he carried into
the inn parlor. He leaned the sack carefully against the stove, and then
went to the table. But the stove was hot, and he had not thought of
that. Many guests were present--horse-dealers, cattle-drovers, and two
Englishmen. The Englishmen were so rich that their pockets bulged and
seemed ready to burst; and they could bet too, as you shall hear.
Hiss--s--s, hiss--s--s. What could that be by the stove? The apples were
beginning to roast. "What is that?" asked one.

"Why, do you know--" said our peasant, and then he told them the whole
story of the horse, which he had exchanged for a cow, and all the rest
of it, down to the apples.

"Well, your old woman will give it to you when you get home," said