"Indeed I won't," says the peasant, thinking to himself that he had nothing to load them with. "And thank you very much," says he; and he goes back to Misery, taking with him the oxen and cart.
Misery looked at him and grumbled in his wretched little voice, "They are hardly strong enough,"
"They are the best I could borrow," says the peasant; "and you and I have starved too long to be heavy."
And the peasant and little Master Misery sat together in the cart and drove off together, Misery holding his head in both hands and groaning at the jolt of the cart.
As soon as they had left the village, Misery sat up and asked the peasant,—
"Do you know the big stone that stands alone in the middle of a field not far from here?"
"Of course I know it," says the peasant.
"Drive straight to it," says Misery, and went on rocking himself to and fro, and groaning and complaining in his wretched little voice.
They came to the stone, and got down from the cart and looked at the stone. It was very big and heavy, and was fixed in the ground.