WHAT THE OLD MAN DOES IS ALWAYS RIGHT [1]
was carrying a large
goose under his arm.
"What a heavy creature you have there!" said the peasant; "it
has plenty of feathers and plenty of fat, and would look well tied
to a string, or paddling in the water at our place. That would be very
useful to my old woman; she could make all sorts of profits out of it.
How often she has said, 'If now we only had a goose!' Now here is an
opportunity, and, if possible, I will get it for her. Shall we
exchange? I will give you my sheep for your goose, and thanks into the
bargain."
The other had not the least objection, and accordingly the
exchange was made, and our peasant became possessor of the goose. By
this time he had arrived very near the town. The crowd on the high
road had been gradually increasing, and there was quite a rush of
men and cattle. The cattle walked on the path and by the palings,
and at the turnpike-gate they even walked into the toll-keeper's
potato-field, where one fowl was strutting about with a string tied to
its leg, for fear it should take fright at the crowd, and run away and
get lost. The tail-feathers of the fowl were very short, and it winked
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 directly 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."
And so they made an exchange,- the toll-keeper at the
turnpike-gate kept the goose, and the peasant carried off the fowl.
Now he had really 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," he replied; "I should like to
take them home to my old woman. Last year the old apple-tree by the
grass-plot only bore one apple, and we kept it in the cupboard till it
was quite withered and rotten. It was always property, my old woman
said; and 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 quite bulged out 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 you well when you get home,"
said one of the Englishmen. "Won't there be a noise?"
"What! Give me what?" said the peasant. "Why, she will kiss me,
and say, 'what the old man does is always right.'"
"Let us lay a wager on it," said the Englishmen. "We'll wager
you a ton of coined gold, a hundred pounds to the hundred-weight."
"No; a bushel will be enough,"
goose under his arm.
"What a heavy creature you have there!" said the peasant; "it
has plenty of feathers and plenty of fat, and would look well tied
to a string, or paddling in the water at our place. That would be very
useful to my old woman; she could make all sorts of profits out of it.
How often she has said, 'If now we only had a goose!' Now here is an
opportunity, and, if possible, I will get it for her. Shall we
exchange? I will give you my sheep for your goose, and thanks into the
bargain."
The other had not the least objection, and accordingly the
exchange was made, and our peasant became possessor of the goose. By
this time he had arrived very near the town. The crowd on the high
road had been gradually increasing, and there was quite a rush of
men and cattle. The cattle walked on the path and by the palings,
and at the turnpike-gate they even walked into the toll-keeper's
potato-field, where one fowl was strutting about with a string tied to
its leg, for fear it should take fright at the crowd, and run away and
get lost. The tail-feathers of the fowl were very short, and it winked
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 directly 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."
And so they made an exchange,- the toll-keeper at the
turnpike-gate kept the goose, and the peasant carried off the fowl.
Now he had really 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," he replied; "I should like to
take them home to my old woman. Last year the old apple-tree by the
grass-plot only bore one apple, and we kept it in the cupboard till it
was quite withered and rotten. It was always property, my old woman
said; and 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 quite bulged out 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 you well when you get home,"
said one of the Englishmen. "Won't there be a noise?"
"What! Give me what?" said the peasant. "Why, she will kiss me,
and say, 'what the old man does is always right.'"
"Let us lay a wager on it," said the Englishmen. "We'll wager
you a ton of coined gold, a hundred pounds to the hundred-weight."
"No; a bushel will be enough,"