he would break his neck. However,
I'm off now once for all. I like your cow a great deal better; one can
walk along at one's leisure behind her, and have milk, butter, and
cheese every day into the bargain. What would I give to have such a
cow!"

"Well," said the shepherd, "if you are so fond of her I will change my
cow for your horse."

"Done!" said Hans merrily.

The shepherd jumped upon the horse and away he rode. Hans drove off
his cow quietly, and thought his bargain a very lucky one.

"If I have only a piece of bread (and I certainly shall be able to get
that), I can, whenever I like, eat my butter and cheese with it, and
when I am thirsty I can milk my cow and drink the milk. What can I
wish for more?" said he.

When he came to an inn he halted, ate up all his bread, and gave away
his last penny for a glass of beer. Then he drove his cow towards his
mother's village. The heat grew greater as noon came on, till at last
he found himself on a wide heath that it would take him more than an
hour to cross, and he began to be so hot and parched that his tongue
cleaved to the roof of his mouth.

"I can find a cure for this," thought he; "now will I milk my cow and
quench my thirst." So he tied her to the stump of a tree, and held his
leathern cap to milk into, but not a drop was to be had.

While he was trying his luck, and managing the matter very clumsily,
the uneasy beast gave him a kick on the head that knocked him down,
and there he lay a long while senseless. Luckily a butcher came by
driving a pig in a wheelbarrow.

"What is the matter with you?" said the butcher, as he helped him up.

Hans told him what had happened, and the butcher gave him a flask,
saying--

"There, drink and refresh yourself. Your cow will give you no milk;
she is an old beast, good for nothing but the slaughter-house."

"Alas, alas!" said Hans, "who would have thought it? If I kill her,
what will she be good for? I hate cow-beef; it is not tender enough
for me. If it were a pig, now, one could do something with it; it
would at any rate make some sausages."

"Well," said the butcher, "to please you I'll change and give you the
pig for the cow."

"Heaven reward you for your kindness!" said Hans, as he gave the
butcher the cow and took the pig off the wheelbarrow and drove it off,
holding it by a string tied to its leg.

So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go right with him. He had met
with some misfortunes, to be sure, but