The foal, however, begged to be set free. “I am still too young,” it said, “even a light tailor such as you are would break my back in two--let me go till I have grown strong. A time may come when I can reward you for it.” “Run off,” said the tailor, “I see you are still a giddy thing.” He gave it a touch with a switch over its back, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy, leapt over hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open country. But the little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. “The sun to be sure fills my eyes,” said he, “but the bread does not fill my mouth. The first thing that comes across me and is even half eatable, will have to suffer for it.” In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly over the meadow toward him. “Halt, halt!” cried the tailor, and seized him by the leg. “I don’t know if you are good to eat or not, but my hunger leaves me no great choice. I must cut your head off, and roast you.” “Don’t do that,” replied the stork; “I am a sacred bird which brings mankind great profit, and no one ever does me an injury. Leave me my life, and I may do you good in some other way.” “Well, be off, Cousin Longlegs,” said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang down, and flew gently away. “What’s to be the end of this?” said the tailor to himself at last; “my hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost.” At this moment, he saw a couple of young ducks which were on a pond, come swimming toward him. “You come just at the right moment,” said he, and laid hold of one of them and was about to wring its neck. On this an old duck, which was hidden among the reeds, began to scream loudly and swam to him with open beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear children. “Can you not imagine,” said she, “how your mother would mourn if any one wanted to carry you off, and give you your death blow?” “Only be quiet,” said the good-tempered tailor; “you shall keep your children,” and he put the prisoner back into the water. When he turned round, he was standing in front of an old tree which was partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it. “There I shall at once find the reward of my good deed,” said the tailor; “the honey will refresh me.” But the Queen-Bee came out, threatened him and said, “If you touch my people, and destroy my nest, our stings shall pierce your skin like ten thousand red-hot needles. But if you will leave us in peace and go your way, we will do you a service for it another time.” The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. “Three dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner!” He dragged himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town. It was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn, and he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied, he said, “Now I will get to work.”