“Misery me!” she sobbed, dropping big tears, “Behh, behh, bekky! it was to tell you that the wicked wolf had killed my husband, the buck; and now my little orphan and I are in sore need, for he will forage for us no more; and I fear my poor little kid will die of hunger if you cannot help her. So I called to you, noble Master Luck of the Bean-rows, to beg of pity one of those good quart measures of beans hanging from your staff. It will keep us till we get help from our kinsfolk.” “What you ask, Lady Doe,” said the Luck, taking one of his two measures from his staff, “is an act of compassion and good will, and I am glad to do it for you.” [Illustration: [Goat]] The goat caught up the measure in her lips, and one bound carried her into the leafy thicket. “My word, but you are in a hurry to be off!” cried Luck of the Bean-rows. “May I ask you, dear lady, if I am still far from the great town mother is sending me to?” “You are there already,” answered the goat as she buried herself deep among the bushes. Once more the Luck went on his way, his staff the lighter by two quart measures. He was looking out for the walls of the big town when he noticed by a rustling along the skirt of the woods that someone was following him closely. He turned quickly towards the sound, with his pronged hoe gripped hard in his hand. Well for him that the prongs were open, for the prowler that was tracking him was a grim old wolf whose appearance promised no good. [Illustration: [Wolf]] “So it is you, evil beast!” cried Luck. “You hoped to give me the place of honour at your evening spread! By good fortune my two iron teeth,” and he glanced at his hoe, “are worth all yours together, though I would not belittle _them_; so you may take it as settled, old crony, that you are to sup this evening without me. Consider yourself in luck, too, if I do not avenge the husband of the she-goat and the father of the kid who have been brought into pitiful straits by your cruelty. Perhaps I ought to, and it would only be justice, but I have been brought up with such a horror of blood that I am loth to shed even a wolf’s.” So far the wolf had listened in deep humility; now he suddenly broke into a long and lamentable howl and turned up his eyes to heaven as if calling on it to bear witness.