he would carry the work over to the other side of the street. There was
a perplexity! The money was not to be found, and if it were found in the
presence of his wife, he would regard it as no better than lost. He was
therefore obliged to excuse his conduct, being caught in the act of
poring after something, to tell, if not a lie, at least the very
smallest part of the truth, and say that he had lost his thimble. The
money was not found, and to make bad worse, he was in danger of losing a
good job, and all the Ritter's work forever, as a consequence.

Away he ran, therefore, groaning inwardly, at full speed, and, arriving
out of breath, saw the Ritter's carriage drawn up at his opponent's
door. Wormwood upon wormwood! His money was lost; his best customer was
lost, and thrown into the jaws of the detested Hippopotamus. There he
beheld him and his man in a prime bustle from day to day, while his own
house was deserted. All people went where the Ritter went, of course.
The Hippopotamus was now grazing and browsing through Hans's richest
meadows with a vengeance. He was flourishing out of all bounds. He had
got a horse to ride out on and take orders, and to all appearance was
likely to become Buergermeister ten years before Hans had got ten dollars
of his own.

It was too much for even his sanguine temperament; he sank down to the
very depths of despair; his fiddle had lost its music; he could not
abide to hear it; he sate moody and disconsolate, with a beard an inch
long. His wife for some time hoped it would go off; but, seeing it come
to this, she began to console and advise, to rouse his courage and his
spirits. She told him it was that horse which gave the advantage to his
neighbor. While he went trudging on foot, wearying himself, and wasting
his time, people came, grew weary, and would not wait. She offered,
therefore, to borrow her neighbor's ass for him; and advised him to ride
out daily a little way. It would look as though he had business in the
country. It would look as if his time was precious; it would look well,
and do his health good into the bargain. Hans liked her counsel; it
sounded well--nay, exceedingly discreet. He always thought her a gem of
a woman, but he never imagined her half so able. What a pity a woman
could not be trusted with a secret! Were it not for that, she would be a
helpmate past all reckoning.

The ass, however, was got: out rode Hans; looked amazingly hurried; and,
being half-craze