one morning when he was still lying amongst the feathers in broad daylight, resting after his long sleep, he said to his wife, "women are fond of sweet things, and thou art always tasting the honey in private; it will be better for us to exchange it for a goose with a young gosling, before thou eatest up the whole of it." "but," answered trina, "not before we have a child to take care of them! am i to worry myself with the little geese, and spend all my strength on them to no purpose." "dost thou think," said harry, "that the youngster will look after geese? now-a-days children no longer obey, they do according to their own fancy, because they consider themselves cleverer than their parents, just like that lad who was sent to seek the cow and chased three blackbirds." "oh," replied trina, "this one shall fare badly if he does not do what i say! i will take a stick and belabour his skin for him with more blows than i can count. look, harry," cried she in her zeal, and seized the stick which she had to drive the mice away with, "look, this is the way i will fall on him!" she reached her arm out to strike, but unhappily hit the honey-pitcher above the bed. the pitcher struck against the wall and fell down in fragments, and the fine honey streamed down on the ground. "there lie the goose and the young gosling," said harry, "and want no looking after. but it is lucky that the pitcher did not fall on my head. we have all reason to be satisfied with our lot." and then as he saw that there was still some honey in one of the fragments he stretched out his hand for it, and said quite gaily, "the remains, my wife, we will still eat with a relish, and we will rest a little after the fright we have had. what matters if we do get up a little later the day is always long enough."