Meanwhile the goat-boys and their flocks had reached the Pulpit-rock. Moni brought out bread and a small piece of dried meat and invited Joergli to share his midday meal. They both sat down on the Pulpit-rock and ate heartily, for it had grown very late and they had excellent appetites. When everything was eaten and they had drunk a little goat's milk, Joergli comfortably stretched himself at full length on the ground, and rested his head on both arms, but Moni remained sitting, for he always liked to look down into the deep valley below. "But what are you now, Joergli, if you are no longer goat-boy?" began Moni. "You must be something." "Surely I am something, and something very good," replied Joergli, "I am egg-boy. Every day I carry eggs to all the hotels, as far as I can go; I come up here to the Bath House, too. Yesterday I was there." Moni shook his head. "That's nothing. I wouldn't be an egg-boy; I would a thousand times rather be goat-boy, it is much finer." "But why?" "Eggs are not alive, you can't speak a word to them, and they don't run after you like the goats which are glad to see you when you come, and are fond of you, and understand every word you say to them; you can't have any pleasure with eggs as you can with the goats up here." "Yes, and you," interrupted Joergli, "what great pleasure do you have up here? Just now you have had to get up six times while we were eating, just on account of that silly kid, to prevent it from falling down below--is that a pleasure?" "Yes, I like to do that! Isn't it so, Maeggerli? Come! Come here!" Moni jumped up and ran after the kid, for it was making dangerous leaps for sheer joy. When he sat down again, Joergli said: "There is another way to keep the young goats from falling over the rocks, without having to be always jumping after them, as you do." "What is it?" asked Moni. "Drive a stick firmly into the ground and fasten the goat by the leg to it; she will kick furiously, but she can't get away." "You needn't think I would do any such thing to the little kid!" said Moni quite angrily and drew Maeggerli to him and held her fast, as if to protect her from any such treatment. "You really won't have to take care of that one much longer," began Joergli again. "It won't come up here many times more." "What? What? What did you say, Joergli?" demanded Moni. "Bah, don't you know about it? The landlord will not raise her, she is too weak; there never was a more feeble goat. He wanted to sell her to my father, but he wouldn't have her either; now the landlord is going to have her killed next week, and then he will buy our spotted one." Moni had become quite pale from terror. At first he couldn't speak a word; but now he broke out and complained aloud over the little kid: "No, no, that shall not be done, Maeggerli, it shall not be done. They shall not slay you, I can't bear that. Oh, I would rather die with you; no, that cannot be!"