Dear Friends,
Sorry I have not posted sooner. The only excuse I can give is the holidays.
I'm sure you will understand.
Christmas for me was fairly uneventful. Except for the fact my fridge is not working. We ordered one on black Friday. It was suppose to be here on the 15th. No show. Now I'm told it won't be here till maybe the 6th of January at the earliest. So I'm not a very happy person right now. They never called to say that there was a delay in getting it. I did let them know how unhappy I am right now. After this I don't plan on doing business with them again. I could name them but I won't.
Anyway, other things are looking up for me. I like to look at it this way. Once this is settled things will be a little better. 2019 was not a good year. One phrase I've seen a number of time concerning this year: " What the Hell was that?" I like to say that 2020 will be better. We will be able to see things more clearly.
Here is the second part of Hans In Luck:
II
The Pig, The Goose, The Grindstone, and
Nothing.
So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go
well with him. He had met with some ill luck, to
be sure, but he was now well repaid. The next
person he met was a Farmer carrying a fine white
goose under his arm. The Farmer stopped to
ask what o'clock it was, and Hans told him all
his luck, and how he had made so many good
bargains. The Farmer said he was going to take
the goose to market.
"Feel," said he, "how heavy it is, and yet it
is only eight weeks old. Whoever roasts and
eats it may cut plenty of fat off it, it has lived
so well."
"You are right," said Hans, as he weighed
the goose in his hand; "but my pig is no
trifle." Now the Farmer began to look grave, and
shook hi head.
"Hark ye, my good friend," said he. "Your
pig may get you into a scrape. In the village I
just came from the squire has had a pig stolen
out of his sty. I was very much afraid whn I
saw you that you had the squire's pig. It will
be a bad job it they catch you; the least they
will do will be to throw you into the horse
pond." Poor Hans was in great fright.
"Good man," he cried," pray get me out of
this scrape. You know the country better than
I; take my pig and give me the goose,"
"I ought to have something into the bargain,"
said the Farmer. "However, I will not be hard
upon you, since you are in trouble." Then he
took the string in his hand, and drove the pig
away by a side path, while Hans went on, free
from care.
"After all," thought Hans, "I have the best
of the bargain. First, there will be a capital
roast; then the fat will keep me in goose-grease
for six months; and there are all the soft white
feathers. I shall put them into my pillow, and
then I shall sleep soundly. How happy my
mother will be!"
As he came to the last village on the way, he saw
a Scissors-grinder with his wheel, working
away and singing merrily. Hans stood by looking
on for a while, and at last said:--
"You must be well off, Master Grinder, you
seem so happy at your work."
"Yes," said the other; "mine is a golden
trade; a good grinder never puts his hand into
his pocket without finding money. But where
did you get that beautiful goose?"
"I did not buy it, but changed a pig for it."
"And where did you get the pig?"
"I gave a cow for it."
"And the cow?"
"I gave a horse for it."
"And the horse?"
"I gave a piece of silver as big as my head
for that."
"And the silver?"
"Oh, I worked hard for that for seven long
years."
"You have done well so far," said the
Grinder. "Now if you could find money in
your pocket whenever you put your hand into
it, your fortune would be made."
"Very true; but how is that to be brought
about?"
"You must turn grinder like me. You only
want a grindstone; the rest will come of itself.
Here is one that is a little the worse for wear; I
would not ask more than your goose for it;--
will you buy?"
"How can you ask such a question?" replied
Hans; "I should be the happiest fellow in the
world, if I could have money whenever I put my
hand into my pocket. What could I want more?
There is the goose!"
"Now," said the Grinder, as he gave him a
common rough stone that lay by his side,"this
is a capital stone; only use it cleverly, and you
can make an old nail cut with it." Hans took
the stone, and went off with a light heart. His
eyes shone for joy, and he said to himself:--
"I must have been born in a lucky hour.
Everything I want or wish for comes to me of
itself."
Now Hans began to be tired, for he had been
traveling ever since daybreak. He was hungry,
too, for he had spent his last penny. At last
he could go no further, for the stone was very
heavy. He dragged himself to the side of a
pond; there he meant to drink some water and
rest awhile. He laid the stone carefully by his
side on the bank, and stooped to drink; but he
forgot the stone and pushed it a little; down it
went plump into the pond.
For a while he watched it in the deep clear
water; then he sprang up for joy, and again fell
on his knees and thanked Heaven with tears in
his eyes for taking away his only plague, the
ugly heavy stone.
"How happy I am!" he cried. "Surely no
mortal was ever so lucky as I." Then he got
up with a light and merry heart, and walked
on, free from all his troubles, till he reached his
mother's house.
What a story. He started with a piece of silver as big as his head and by the time he reached his mothers house he had nothing. I wonder if his mother was able to get him to see how much he was taken advantage of by everyone he met. I do wonder what he did for seven years. Was he a good worker or did he only do the minimum amount of work?
What do you think is the moral of this story?
Trying to find figure out what I should show you this time I found a news paper from here.
I scanned two things from The Star News Thursday May 11, 1978:
I'm actually in this one. I'm on the left.
I story on a local business. Believe me a lot has changed.
I choose another picture from the past:
I wonder how different this view is today.
Well that's all I have to share with you today.
I look forward to sharing more things with you in 2020.
I hope you will come back soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy
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