'The hippogriff neighed shrilly, loudly, And reared upon his hind-legs proudly; In utter wonderment each stood and cried: "The noble regal beast!" But, woe betide! Two hideous wings his slender form deface, The finest team he else would not disgrace. "The breed," said they, "is doubtless rare, But who would travel through the air?" Not one of them would risk his gold. At length a farmer grew more bold: "As for his wings, I of no use should find them, But then how easy 'tis to clip or bind them! The horse for drawing may be useful found,-- So, friend, I don't mind giving twenty pound!" The other glad to sell his merchandise, Cried, "Done!"--and Hans rode off upon his prize. The noble creature was, ere long, put-to, But scarcely felt the unaccustomed load, Than, panting to soar upwards, off he flew, And, filled with honest anger, overthrew The cart where an abyss just met the road. "Ho! ho!" thought Hans: "No cart to this mad beast I'll trust. Experience makes one wise at least. To drive the coach to-morrow now my course is, And he as leader in the team shall go. The lively fellow'll save me full two horses; As years pass on, he'll doubtless tamer grow." All went on well at first. The nimble steed His partners roused,--like lightning was their speed. What happened next? Toward heaven was turned his eye,-- Unused across the solid ground to fly, He quitted soon the safe and beaten course, And true to nature's strong resistless force, Ran over bog and moor, o'er hedge and pasture tilled; An equal madness soon the other horses filled-- No reins could hold them in, no help was near, Till,--only picture the poor travellers' fear!-- The coach, well shaken, and completely wrecked, Upon a hill's steep top at length was checked. "If this is always sure to be the case," Hans cried, and cut a very sorry face, "He'll never do to draw a coach or wagon; Let's see if we can't tame the fiery dragon By means of heavy work and little food." And so the plan was tried.--But what ensued? The handsome beast, before three days had passed, Wasted to nothing. "Stay! I see at last!" Cried Hans. "Be quick, you fellows! yoke him now With my most sturdy ox before the plough."