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 the spreading of manure; he slept among the ashes in the chimney-corner, and was generally called Peter Fiddle-de-dee. "I want to go, too," said he. "No," answered his brothers; he must stay where he was, in his chimney-corner—that would suit him best. "I am pretty enough," continued Peter. "I ask for no new clothes." All that he wanted was a horse to ride on; whether it was good or bad, young or old, would not matter. He was only laughed at, however; his father was unwilling to grant him permission to ride even the oldest mare in the stable, and said that if he desired to go he must be contented with his own legs. "It is all the same," cried Peter," for I will try to make my fortune," and so he trudged along after his two stately brothers.

When they had travelled a short distance Peter made a jump, and exclaimed: "Look what I have found!" "What did you find?" inquired one of his brothers, turning around. It was only a dead crow which was lying in the road. "I must take it along to the palace," said Peter again; "no one knows what use one may have of it." "Oh, you are a real fool!" said his brothers, spurring on their horses and fetching him a rap with their horsewhips. "Wait and take me along!" shouted he. "You may follow us as well as you can," answered they. Peter stuffed the dead bird into his pocket and quickened his walk.

In a little while he cried again: "Look what I have found!" His brothers did not even care to