There is a fair at the neighbouring town; you shall take
these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which
you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very
comfortably."
Mr. Vinegar joyfully agrees, takes the money, and off he goes to the
fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a
beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every
way. "Oh," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that cow, I should be
the happiest, man alive."
So he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner said that,
as he was a friend, he'd oblige him. So the bargain was made, and he
got the cow and he drove it backwards and forwards to show it.
By-and-by he saw a man playing the bagpipes—Tweedle-dum tweedle-dee.
The children followed him about, and he appeared to be pocketing money
on all sides. "Well," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that
beautiful instrument I should be the happiest man alive—my fortune
would be made."
So he went up to the man. "Friend," says he, "what a beautiful
instrument that is, and what a deal of money you must make." "Why,
yes," said the man, "I make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it
is a wonderful instrument." "Oh!" cried Mr. Vinegar, "how I should
like to possess it!" "Well," said the man, "as you are a friend, I
don't much mind parting with it; you shall have it for that red cow."
"Done!" said the delighted Mr. Vinegar. So the beautiful red cow was
given for the bagpipes.
He walked up and down with his purchase; but it was in vain he tried
to play a tune, and instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him
hooting, laughing, and pelting.
Poor Mr. Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, just as he was
leaving the town, he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. "Oh,
my fingers are so very cold," said Mr. Vinegar to himself. "Now if I
had but those beautiful gloves I should be the happiest man alive." He
went up to the man, and said to him, "Friend, you seem to have a
capital pair of gloves there." "Yes, truly," cried the man; "and my
hands are as warm as possible this cold November day." "Well," said
Mr. Vinegar, "I should like to have them.". "What will you give?" said
the man; "as you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them
for those bagpipes." "Done!" cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves,
and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards.
At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with
a good stout stick in his hand.
"Oh," said Mr. Vinegar, "that I had but that stick! I should then be
the happiest man alive." He said to the man: "Friend! what a rare good
stick you have got." "Yes," said the man; "I have used it for many a
long mile, and a good friend it has been; but if you have a fancy for
it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair
of gloves." Mr. Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired,
that he gladly made the exchange.
As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a
parrot on a tree calling out his name: "Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man,
you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair, and laid out all
your money in buying a cow. Not content with that, you changed it for
bagpipes, on which you could not play, and which were not worth one-
tenth of the money. You fool, you—you had no sooner got the bagpipes
than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one-quarter
of the money; and when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a
poor miserable stick; and now for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes,
and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick,
which you might have cut in any hedge." On this the bird laughed and
laughed, and Mr. Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick
at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife
without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave
him such a sound cudgelling that she almost broke every bone in his
skin.
Nix Nought Nothing
*
There once lived a king and a queen as many a one has been. They were
long married and had no children; but at last a baby-boy came to the
queen when the king was away in the far countries.
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