"Thou 'st not hit the right thing, my lad," says she. "I doubt thou 'rt
a bigger fool than I thought!" and shut the door in his face.
"See there!" says he, and set down by the road side and greets.
"I've lost the only two things as I cared for, and what else can I find
to buy a pottle o' brains with!" and he fair howled, till the tears ran
down into his mouth. And up came a lass that lived near at hand, and
looked at him.
"What's up with thee, fool?" says she.
"Oo, I've killed my pig, and lost my mother and I'm nobbut a fool
myself," says he, sobbing.
"That's bad," says she; "and haven't thee anybody to look after thee?"
"No," says he, "and I canna buy my pottle o' brains, for there's nothing
I like best left!"
"What art talking about?" says she.
And down she sets by him, and he told her all about the wise woman and
the pig, and his mother and the riddles, and that he was alone in the
world.
"Well," says she, "I wouldn't mind looking after thee myself.
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