He flew on and on, and looked down, and saw a man lying in the road below him with his ear on the damp ground.

“Good-day to you, uncle,” cried the Fool.

“Good-day to you, Sky-fellow,” cried the man.

“What are you doing down there?” says the Fool.

“I am listening to all that is being done in the world.”

“Take your place in the ship with me.”

The man was willing enough, and sat down in the ship with the Fool, and they flew on together singing songs.

They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man on one leg, with the other tied up to his head.

“Good-day, uncle,” says the Fool, bringing the ship to the ground.  “Why are you hopping along on one foot?”

“If I were to untie the other I should move too fast.  I should be stepping across the world in a single stride.”

“Sit down with us,” says the Fool.

The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together singing songs.

They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see.

“Good health to you, uncle,” says the Fool.  “But what are you shooting at?  There isn’t a bird to be seen.”

“What!” says the man.  “If there were a bird that you could see, I should not shoot at it.  A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, that’s the sort of mark for me.”

“Take your seat with us,” says the Fool.

The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together.  Louder and louder rose their songs.

They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a sack full of bread on his back.

“Good health to you, uncle,” says the Fool, sailing down.  “And where are you off to?”

“I am going to get bread for my dinner.”

“But you’ve got a full sack on your back.”

“That—­that little scrap!  Why, that’s not enough for a single mouthful.”

“Take your seat with us,” says the Fool.

The Eater sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together, singing louder than ever.

They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking round and round a lake.

“Good health to you, uncle,” says the Fool.  “What are you looking for?”

“I want a drink, and I can’t find any water.”

“But there’s a whole lake in front of your eyes.  Why can’t you take a drink from that?”

“That little drop!” says the man.  “Why, there’s not enough water there to wet the back of my throat if I were to drink it at one gulp.”

“Take your seat with us,” says the Fool.

The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in chorus.

They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders.

“Good-day to you, uncle,” says the Fool.  “Why are you taking wood to the forest?”