to see thee."

"So thou art," said the wise woman; "I see that. How's all in thy folk
this year?"

"Oh, fairly," answered he. "But they say I be a fool."

"Ay, so thou art," nodded she, and threw away a bad potato. "I see that
too. But wouldst o' me? I keep no brains for sale."

"Well, see now. Mother says I'll ne'er be wiser all my born days; but
folks tell us thou canst do everything. Can't thee teach me a bit, so
they'll think me a clever fellow at home?"

"Hout-tout!" said the wise woman; "thou 'rt a bigger fool than I
thought. Nay, I can't teach thee nought, lad; but I tell thee summat.
Thou 'lt be a fool all thy days till thou gets a coat o' clay; and then
thou 'lt know more than me."

"Hi, missis; what sort of a coat's that?" said he.

"That's none o' my business," answered she, "Thou 'st got to find out
that."

And she took up her potatoes and went into her house.

The fool took off his cap and scratched his head.

"It's a queer kind of coat to look for, sure-_ly_," said he, "I never
heard of a coat o' clay. But then I be a fool, that's true."

So he walked on till he came to the drain near by, with just a pickle of
water and a foot of mud in it.

"Here's muck," said the fool, much pleased, and he got in and rolled in
it spluttering. "Hi, yi!" said he--for he had his mouth full--"I've got
a coat o' clay now to be sure. I'll go home and tell my mother I'm a
wise man and not a fool any longer." And he went on home.

Presently he came to a cottage with a lass at the door.

"Morning, fool," said she; "hast thou been ducked in the horse-pond?"

"Fool yourself," said he, "the wise woman says I'll know more 'n she
when I get a coat o' clay, and here it is. Shall I marry thee, lass?"

"Ay," said she, for she thought she'd like a fool for a husband, "when
shall it be?"

"I'll come and fetch thee when I've told my mother," said the fool, and
he gave her his lucky penny and went on.

When he got home his mother was on the doorstep.

"Mother, I 've got a coat o' clay," said he.

"Coat o' muck," said she; "and what of that?"

"Wise woman said I'd know more than she when I got a coat o' clay," said
he, "so I down in the drain and got one, and I'm not a fool any longer."

"Very good," said his mother, "now thou canst get a wife."

"Ay," said he, "I'm going to marry so-an'-so."

"What!" said his mother, "_that_ lass? No, and that thou 'lt not. She's
nought but a brat, with ne'er a cow or a cabbage