Barney had no answer to make, for he did not know.
Well, the money must be had, and the next morning, Barney’s mother sent him off to the fair again, and this time it was the brindled cow he was driving before him and it was a much finer and larger cow than old Whitey had been.
When he came near the stile he kept looking and looking to see whether the little man in green was there, but it was not until the lad came quite close to it that he saw him. There sat the small one on the top step in the sunlight, with his red cap lying beside him.
“And how did your mother like the price you got for old Whitey?” asked the small man.
“Little enough; and the thanks are owing to you for the scolding I got.”
“Never mind! She’ll be thankful enough some day for the price I paid you. Is the brindled cow for sale, too?”
“Not to you,” answered Barney.
“Ah, Barney, Barney! I’m after thinking you must be the simpleton some folk call you. There’s no one can pay you such a good price as I offer. If you had but this gay gentleman of a mouse to dance to the music your mother would be fit to split her sides with laughter; and you may have him for your own in exchange for that cow.”
No, Barney would not listen to such a thing, but the little man coaxed and wheedled, until at last Barney gave him the cow, and took the little mouse in exchange for it.
When he reached home, his mother was on the lookout for him.