ke out a
scanty living.

So the seasons came and passed. Spring, summer, harvest, and winter
followed each other as they have always done. At the end of the winter
Scrub and Spare had grown so poor and ragged that Fairfeather thought
them beneath her notice. Old neighbours forgot to invite them to wedding
feasts or merrymaking. They thought the cuckoo had forgotten them too,
when at daybreak, on the first of April, they heard a hard beak knocking
at their door and a voice crying:

"Cuckoo! cuckoo! let me in with my gifts."

Spare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on one side
of his bill a golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the north
country; and in the other, one like that of the common laurel, only it
had a fresher green.

"Here," it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare; "it is
a long way to carry them from the end of the world. Give me a slice of
bread, for I must tell the north country that the spring has come."

Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that slice, though it was cut from
their last loaf. So much gold had never been in the cobbler's hands
before, and he could not help exulting over his brother.

"See the wisdom of my choice!" he said, holding up the large leaf of
gold. "As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge. I wonder
such a wise bird would carry the like so far."

"Good Master Cobbler," cried the cuckoo, finishing the slice, "your
words are more hasty than kind. If your brother is disappointed this
time, I go on the same journey every year, and for your kind treatment
will think it no trouble to bring each of you whichever leaf you wish."

"Darling cuckoo!" cried Scrub, "bring me a golden one."

And Spare, looking up from the green leaf on which he gazed as though it
were a crown-jewel, said:

"Be sure to bring me one from the merry tree."

And away flew the cuckoo once again.

"This is the Feast of All Fools, and it ought to be your birthday," said
Scrub. "Did ever man fling away such a chance of becoming rich! Much
good your merry leaves will do when you are so poor!"

So he went on; but Spare laughed at him, and answered with many old
proverbs about the cares that come with gold, till Scrub, at length
growing angry, vowed his brother was not fit to live with a gentleman
like himself. And taking his lasts, his awls, and his golden leaf, he
left the wattle hut and went to tell the villagers.

They were surprised at the folly