572 HANS IN LUCK.

and then I can as often as I please eat butter and cheese with
it; and whenI am thirsty, then I can milk my cow, and
drink milk, Heart, what else can you desire?” When he
came to an inn he made a halt, and ate with great satisfaction
his morning and evening bread clean up, and spent his two
last farthings for half a glass of beer. After that, he drove his
cow further on towards the village where his mother dwelt.
As noon approached, the heat became more and more oppres-
sive, while Hans was passing over a heath which occupied
more than an hour's time, and he became so hot, that his tongue
clove to the roof of his mouth. “Now I can help myself,”
thought Hans, “by milking my cow, and drinking her milk.”
So he tied her to a withered tree, and, as he had no pail, he
put his leather cap beneath; but, although he worked very
hard, not a drop of milk made its appearance; but he had
placed himself very awkwardly, and the impatient beast at
last gave him such a kick with her hind-foot on the head, that
he tumbled on the ground, and for a long time knew not where
he was. Fortunately, just then a butcher came by, who was
wheeling a little pig along on a barrow. “ Whatis the matter,
my man?” he exclaimed, helping poor Hans up, who told him
what had occurred. The butcher handed him his flask, and
said, “Drink once, and then stop. ‘The cow might well give
no milk: she is an old animal, only valuable to drive or kill,
at the most.”

“Oh, oh,” said Hans, scratching his head, “ who would have
thought it? It is all very well if one can slay such a beast
at home for its flesh; but I do not much relish cow’s flesh:
it is not delicate enough forme. Yes, if I had but a young
pig, that would taste better even for sausages.”

“Now, my Hans,” replied the butcher, “out of love for
you, I will change, and let you have my pig for your cow."—