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The next man he met was a countryman carrying a fine white goose.

The countryman stopped to ask what was o'clock; this led to

further chat; and Hans told him all his luck, how he had so many

good bargains, and how all the world went gay and smiling with

him. The countryman then began to tell his tale, and said he was

going to take the goose to a christening. 'Feel,' said he, 'how

heavy it is, and yet it is only eight weeks old. Whoever roasts

and eats it will find plenty of fat upon it, it has lived so

well!' 'You're right,' said Hans, as he weighed it in his hand;

'but if you talk of fat, my pig is no trifle.' Meantime the

countryman began to look grave, and shook his head. 'Hark ye!'

said he, 'my worthy friend, you seem a good sort of fellow, so I

can't help doing you a kind turn. Your pig may get you into a

scrape. In the village I just came from, the squire has had a pig

stolen out of his sty. I was dreadfully afraid when I saw you

that you had got the squire's pig.