then, my honest fellow, do but let me out of this cask, and take my place as quickly as you please.” This was no sooner said than done: and Kibitz being extricated himself, inclosed the ambitious clown in his new shell, in which he was to be hatched into a burgomaster; then thinking that the poor sheep would be at a loss for want of a master, or if left there might fall into worse hands than his own, he determined at once to drive them home.
On returning from the tavern, the boors began to roll the cask on again, in spite of the cries of the unfortunate shepherd; and at length, fairly plunged it into the water.
Satisfied that they had now got for ever rid of Kibitz, they were returning very leisurely to the village, but how extreme was their surprise, on suddenly meeting him, not only quite safe and sound, but driving a fine flock of sheep.
“Is it possible Kibitz, that it is you?” exclaimed they altogether, concealing their vexation as well as they could.
