Presently, when he sat up and looked down at himself, he found that the dust had caked into a sort of skin over his wet clothes till you could not see an inch of them, they were so well covered. “Hi, yi!” said he, “here’s a coat o’ clay ready made, an’ a fine one. See now, I’m a clever fellow this time, sure-ly, for I’ve found what I wanted wi’out lookin’ for it! Wow, but it’s a fine feeling to be so smart!”
And he sat and scratched his head, and thought about his own cleverness.
But all of a sudden, round the corner came the squire on horseback, full gallop, as if the boggles after him; but the fool had to jump, even though the squire pulled his horse back on his haunches.
“What the dickins,” said the squire, “do you mean by lying in the middle of the road like that?”
“Well, measter,” said the fool, “I fell into the water and got wet, so I lay down in the road to get dry; an’ I lay down a fool an’ got up a wise man.”
“How’s that?” said the squire.
So the fool told him about the wise woman and the coat o’ clay.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the squire, “whoever heard of a wise man lying in the middle of the highroad to be ridden over? Lad, take my word for it, you’re a bigger fool than ever,” and he rode on laughing.
“Dang it!” said the fool, as he scratched his head. “I’ve not got the right sort of coat yet, then.” And he choked and spluttered in the dust that the squire’s horse had raised.
So on he went in a melancholy mood till he came to an inn, and the landlord at his door smoking.
“Well, fool,” said he, “thou’rt fine an’ mucky.”
“Ay,” said the fool, “I be mucky outside an’ dusty in, but it’s not the right thing yet.”
And he told the landlord all about the wise woman and the coat o’ clay.
“Hout-tout!” said the landlord, with a wink. “I know
