"That would be an irreparable misfortune, but after awhile we should become reconciled." "What plague has fallen upon you?" "The hail!" cried Loony John; "the hail that uprooted my beautiful chicken feathers. The wind also came among them and scattered them over the country. Do not scold me! I have hunted for them, but I cannot find a single one." "We should have thought about the possibility of a storm," said the shrewd woman. "It was not hens you should have cultivated, my young friend, but sausages—for sausages will withstand the wind and hail." "But how would the sausages grow?" asked Loony John, drying his tears. "Why, like apples and cherries; but the trees, instead of producing these fruits, bear beautiful sausages. People who are not educated think that sausages are only made by those who deal in meat. But surely you know better," said the shrewd woman. Loony John tried to hide his astonishment. "Who would be so simple-minded as not to know that?" he replied. "For how much, ma'am, will you sell the sausages you speak of?" "Twenty dollars apiece, if they are for yourself," answered the woman. "I'll take a dozen," said Loony John, with the air of a fine trader. "I shall need no more to-day." The shrewd woman brought Loony John a dozen old sausages and carefully wrapped them up. He paid for them on the spot, and then, forgetting his first misfortune—the wind and the hail—he returned home singing. Loony John grew older as the days went by. A beard appeared on his face. He even took to himself a wife; but he still remained Loony John. One day, when the sun was shining brightly, he dressed himself in his new suit of clothes, put on his best hat and gloves, and went to the fair in the neighboring village. He enjoyed himself, and created a great deal of amusement for others by his queer blunders. In the afternoon the thought occurred to him that his wife would be expecting him at home, and so he started to return. Unfortunately, a shower came up, just as he was crossing a bridge. Big drops of rain were falling on all sides. In a little while his fine hat, his new clothes, and his gloves that he was so proud of would be ruined. "Goodness gracious!" cried Loony John, "if I suffer myself to get wet like this I shall be called a simpleton indeed, and my friends will have good cause to laugh at me. What shall I do?" Suddenly he shouted for joy. A wonderful idea had struck him. "I will throw myself in the river!" he exclaimed. "Once in the water, it will be impossible for the rain to wet my clothes." No sooner said than done. Into the water jumped Loony John. He couldn't swim and so he was drowned. The next day the miller found the body in the water. He drew it out, and Loony John was buried with great pomp. On his tombstone was an inscription in Latin, which, being interpreted, reads: HERE LIES LOONY JOHN WHO JUMPED INTO THE WATER TO KEEP FROM GETTING WET. * * * * * *