About noon, he went to see how Jack was doing his duty, and what did he find but Jack asleep with his face to the sod, Browney grazing near a thorn-tree, one end of a long rope round her horns, and the other end round the tree, and the rest of the beasts all trampling and eating the green wheat. Down came the switch on Jack.
“Jack, you vagabone, do you see what the cows are at?”
“And do you blame, master?”
“To be sure, you lazy sluggard, I do?”
“Hand me out one pound thirteen and fourpence, master. You said if I only kept Browney out of mischief, the rest would do no harm. There she is as harmless as a lamb. Are you sorry for hiring me, master?”
“To be–that is, not at all. I’ll give you your money when you go to dinner. Now, understand me; don’t let a cow go out of the field nor into the wheat the rest of the day.”
“Never fear, master!” and neither did he. But the churl would rather than a great deal he had not hired him.
The next day three heifers were missing, and the master bade Jack go in search of them.
“Where will I look for them?” said Jack.
“Oh, every place likely and unlikely for them all to be in.”