“Not so, dear friend,” said the Fool, who was very good-natured; “we have shared good luck together, and now we will share poverty.  But as nothing is left, I fear we must seek work.”

“You speak very wisely,” said the Knave, “And what, for instance, can you do?”

“Very little,” said the Fool; “but that little I do well.”

“So do I,” said the Knave.  “Now can you plough, or sow, or feed cattle, or plant crops?”

“Farming is not my business,” said the Fool.

“Nor mine,” said the Knave; “but no doubt you are a handicraftsman.  Are you clever at carpentry, mason’s work, tailoring, or shoemaking?”

“I do not doubt that I should have been had I learned the trades,” said the Fool, “but I never was bound apprentice.”

“It is the same with myself,” said the Knave; “but you may have finer talents.  Can you paint, or play the fiddle?”

“I never tried,” said the Fool; “so I don’t know.”

“Just my case,” said the Knave.  “And now, since we can’t find work, I propose that we travel till work finds us.”

The two comrades accordingly set forth, and they went on and on, till they came to the foot of a hill, where a merchantman was standing by his wagon, which had broken down.

“You seem two strong men,” said he, as they advanced; “if you will carry this chest of valuables up to the top of the hill, and down to the bottom on the other side, where there is an inn, I will give you two gold pieces for your trouble.”

The Knave and the Fool consented to this, saying, “Work has found us at last;” and they lifted the box on to their shoulders.

“Turn, and turn about,” said the Knave; “but the best turn between friends is a good turn; so I will lead the way up-hill, which is the hardest kind of travelling, and you shall go first down-hill, the easy half of our journey.”

The Fool thought this proposal a very generous one, and, not knowing that the lower end of their burden was the heavy one, he carried it all the way.  When they got to the inn, the merchant gave each of them a gold piece, and, as the accommodation was good, they remained where they were till their money was spent.  After this, they lived there awhile on credit; and when that was exhausted, they rose one morning whilst the landlord was still in bed, and pursued their journey, leaving old scores behind them.

They had been a long time without work or food, when they came upon a man who sat by the roadside breaking stones, with a quart of porridge and a spoon in a tin pot beside him.

“You look hungry, friends,” said he, “and I, for my part, want to get away.  If you will break up this heap, you shall have the porridge for supper.  But when you have eaten it, put the pot and spoon under the hedge, that I may find them when I return.”

“If we eat first, we shall have strength for our work,” said the Knave; “and as there is only one spoon, we must eat by turns.  But fairly divide, friendly abide.  As you went first the latter part of our journey, I will begin on this occasion.  When I stop, you fall to, and eat as many spoonfuls as I ate.  Then I will follow you in like fashion, and so on till the pot is empty.”