“Well, now,” said the peasant, “if it would give you as much pleasure as all that, I don’t mind exchanging the cow for the horse.”
Hans agreed to this with the greatest delight, and the peasant, swinging himself upon the horse, rode off in a hurry.
Hans drove his cow peacefully before him, and thought over his lucky bargain. “If I only have a bit of bread—and I ought never to be without that—I can have butter and cheese with it as often as I like; if I am thirsty, I have only to milk the cow and I have milk to drink. What more could heart desire?” [[46]]
When he came to an inn he made a halt, and ate with great satisfaction all the bread he had brought with him for dinner and supper, and spent his last two farthings for a glass of beer to drink with it. Then he drove his cow along in the direction of his mother’s village. The heat grew more and more oppressive as the middle of the day drew near, and Hans found himself on a wide heath which it would take about an hour to cross. He was very hot and thirsty.
“This is easily remedied,” thought Hans; “I will milk the cow and refresh myself with the milk.”
He tied her to a tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath her; but try as hard as he could, not a drop of milk came. He had put himself in a very awkward position, too, and at last the impatient beast gave him such a kick on the head that he tumbled over on the ground and was so dazed that for a long time he could not think where he was. [[47]]
Fortunately a butcher came along soon, trundling a wheelbarrow in which lay a young pig.
“What’s the matter here?” he cried, as he helped Hans up.
Hans told him what had happened. The butcher handed him his flask and said: “There, take a drink; it will do you good. That cow might well give no milk; she is an old beast, and only fit at best for the plow or for the butcher.”