"That's no for me to say," says she, "find out for thyself, my lad! if thou doesn't want to be a fool all thy days. But thou'll have to read me a riddle so as I can see thou'st brought the right thing, and if thy brains is about thee. And I've something else to see to," says she, "so gode'en to thee," and she carried the pot away with her into the back place.
So off went the fool to his mother, and told her what the wise woman said.
"And I reckon I'll have to kill that pig," says he, "for I like fat bacon better than anything."
"Then do it, my lad," said his mother, "for certain 'twill be a strange and good thing fur thee, if thou canst buy a pottle o' brains, and be able to look after thy own self."
So he killed his pig, and next day off he went to the wise woman's cottage, and there she sat, reading in a great book.
"Gode'en, missis," says he, "I've brought thee the heart o' the thing I like best of all; and I put it hapt in paper on the table."
"Aye so?" says she, and looked at him through her spectacles. "Tell me this then, what runs without feet?"
He scratched his head, and thought, and thought, but he couldn't tell.
"Go thy ways," says she, "thou'st not fetched me the right thing yet. I've no brains for thee to-day." And she clapt the book together, and turned her back.
So off the fool went to tell his mother.
But as he got nigh the house, out came folk running to tell him that his mother was dying.
And when he got in, his mother only looked at him
