Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 1, 1890.djvu/312

 306 face,” said the wise woman to herself with a nod of her head, and threw a potato skin over her left shoulder to keep off ill-chance.

“Good-day, missis,” said the fool. “I be come to see thee.”

“So tha’ be,” said the wise woman; “I see that. How’s all in thy folk th’ year?”

“Oh, fairly,” answered he. “But they say I be a fool.”

“Ay, so tha’ be,” nodded she, and threw away a bad potato. “I see that too. But what wouldst o’ me? I keep no brains for sale.”

“Well, see now. Mother says I’ll ne’er be wiser all my born days; but folk tell us thou canst do everything. Can’t thee learn me a bit, so they’ll think me a clever fellow at home?”

“Hout-tout!” said the wise woman; “thou’rt a bigger fool than I thought. Nay, I can’t learn thee nought, lad; but I can tell thee summat. Thou’lt be a fool all thy days till thou get’s a coat o’ clay; and then thou’lt know more’n me.”

“Hi, missis; what sort of a coat’s that?” said he.

“That’s none o’ my business,” answered she. “Thou’st got to find out that.”

And she took up her potatoes and went into her house.

The fool took off his cap and scratched his head.

“It’s a queer kind of a coat to look for, sure-ly,” said he. “I never heard on a coat o’ clay. But then I be a fool, that’s true.”

So he walked on till he came to the drain near by, with just a pickle of water and a foot of mud in it.

“Here’s muck,” said the fool, much pleased, and he got in and rolled in it spluttering. “Hi, yi,” said he—for he had his mouth full—“I’ve got a coat o’ clay now to be sure. I’ll go home and tell my mother I’m a wise man and not a fool any longer.” And he went on home.

Presently he came to a cottage with a ramping lass at the door.