it and a hungry man
forever reaching up and plucking an apple. The apples were apples of
Sodom and always as the hungry man raised each new one to his mouth it
turned to ashes.

In another place a thirsty man was reaching with a dipper into a well
and always, just as he was about to scoop up some water, the well moved
away from under the dipper.

"What a strange country this is!" thought the second brother as he drove
on.

At last he reached the next bridge and sure enough it was shining gold!
Every part of it--bolts and beams and pillars, all were gold. In great
excitement the second brother climbed down from his wagon and began
pulling and wrenching at various parts of the bridge hoping to find some
loose pieces which he could break off. At last he succeeded in pulling
out four long bolts which were so heavy he could scarcely lift them.
After looking about in all directions to make sure that no one saw him,
he put them into his wagon and covered them up with straw. Then he drove
homewards as fast as he could.

"Ha! Ha!" he chuckled as he hid the golden bolts in the barn. "My son
will now be a richer man than my brother!"

He could scarcely sleep with thinking of his golden treasure and at the
first light of morning he slipped out to the barn. Imagine his rage when
he found in the straw four bolts of wood!

So that was all the second brother got for following the silver tracks.

Well, years went by and the Poor Man worked day after day and all day
and often far into the night. Some of his children died and the rest
grew up and went out into the world and married and made homes of their
own. Then at last his good wife died and the time came when the Poor Man
was old and all alone in the world.

One night as he sat on his doorstep thinking of his wife and of his
children when they were little and of all the years he had worked for
them to keep them fed and clothed, he happened to remember the Beggar
and the promise he had made to visit him sometime.

"And to think of all the years I've kept his golden horse-shoes and his
silver bolts! Well, he'll forgive me, I know," thought the Poor Man,
"for he'll understand that I've always been too busy up to this time
ever to follow the tracks of his cart. I wonder are they still there."

He went out to the roadside and peered down and how it happened I don't
know, but to his dim eyes at least there were the silver tracks as clear
as ever.

"Good!" cried the Poor Man.