THE STORY OF THE WIND. 37

took the sack and the ram, and the poor man took
the oxen and went out to the plough.

Then the poor brother went out ploughing all day,
but he neither watered his oxen nor gave them any-
thing to eat. And next day the poor brother again
went out to his oxen, but found them rolling on their
sides on the ground. He began to pull and tug at
them, but they didn’t get up. Then he began to beat
them with a stick, but they uttered not a sound.
The man was surprised to find them fit for nothing,
and off he ran to his brother, not forgetting to take
with him his drum with the henchmen.

When the poor brother came to the rich brother’s,
he lost no time in crossing his threshold, and said:
“Hail, my brother !”—‘ Good health to thee also!”
replied the rich man, “ why hast thou come hither?
Has thy plough broken, or thy oxen failed thee?
Perchance thou hast watered them with foul water,
so that their blood is stagnant, and their flesh
inflamed ?”—* The murrain take ’em if I know thy
meaning!” cried the poor brother. “All that I
know is that I thwacked ’em till my arms ached, and
they wouldn’t stir, and not a single grunt did they
give; till I was go angry that I spat at them, and came
to tell thee. Give me back my sack and my ram, I
say, and take back thy oxen, for they won’t listen to
me !”—“ What! take them back!” roared the rich