Luckily a butcher came by just then, wheeling a young pig in a barrow.
"What kind of joke is this?" cried he, helping our friend Hans to rise.
Hans told him what had happened. The butcher passed him his bottle and said:
"There, drink and revive yourself. That cow will never give any milk; she is an old animal and, at the best, is only fit for the plow or the butcher."
"Oho!" said Hans, running his fingers through his hair. "Who would have thought it? It is all right indeed when you can slaughter such a beast in your own house. But I don't think much of cow's flesh; it is not tender enough. Now, if one had a young pig! That would taste far different, to say nothing of the sausages!"
"Listen, Hans," said the butcher. "For your sake, I will exchange, and let you have my pig for your cow."
"May Heaven reward your friendship!" said Hans, and at once gave him the cow.
The man untied the pig from the wheelbarrow, and gave the rope with which it was bound into Hans's hand.
Hans marched on, thinking: "What a lucky fellow I am. As soon as anything goes wrong, something turns up and all's right again."
Just then, up came a youth, carrying a fine white goose under his arm. They were friends, and Hans began to talk about his luck and how he always came off best in his exchanges. The youth told him he was taking the goose to a christening feast.
"Just hold it," he continued, seizing it by the wings, "and feel how heavy it is: yet it was only fattened for eight weeks. It will be a rich morsel when roasted."
"Yes," said Hans, weighing it with his hand, "it is certainly heavy, but my pig is by no means to be despised."
Meanwhile the lad was looking thoughtfully around, shaking his head. "Listen," he said, "I don't think it's all right about your pig. In the village I have just come through, one has lately been stolen from the magistrate's own sty. I fear it is the one you have. They have sent people out, and it would be a bad business if they found you with the pig. The least they would do would be to throw you into jail."
Our friend Hans was downcast. "Alas," he cried, "help me in my need! You know your way here better than I. Take my pig then, and give me your goose."
"I shall be running great risks," said the youth, "but at least I will prevent your getting into trouble."