"
"How's that?" said the squire.
So the fool told him about the wise woman and the coat o' clay.
"Ah, ah!" laughed the squire, "whoever heard of a wise man lying in the
middle of the highroad to be ridden over? Lad, take my word for it, you
are a bigger fool than ever," and he rode on laughing.
"Dang it!" said the fool, as he scratched his head. "I've not got the
right sort of coat yet, then." And he choked and spluttered in the dust
that the squire's horse had raised.
So on he went in a melancholy mood till he came to an inn, and the
landlord at his door smoking.
"Well, fool," said he, "thou 'rt fine and dirty."
"Ay," said the fool, "I be dirty outside an' dusty in, but it's not the
right thing yet."
And he told the landlord all about the wise woman and the coat o' clay.
"Hout-tout!" said the landlord, with a wink. "I know what's wrong. Thou
'st got a skin o' dirt outside and all dry dust inside. Thou must
moisten it, lad, with a good drink, and then thou 'lt have a real
all-over coat o' clay.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112