Mr. Vinegar

Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. One day, Mr. Vinegar went out, and Mrs. Vinegar began to sweep the floor diligently. She was a very good housekeeper! But suddenly, she accidentally hit the wall with the floor brush, and the whole house—ding-ding!—shattered into pieces.

Mrs. Vinegar, beside herself, rushed to meet her husband.

"Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar!" she cried as soon as she saw him. "We're ruined, completely ruined! I broke our house. It burst and shattered into tiny pieces!"

"Now, now, my dear," said Mr. Vinegar, "let's think about what to do next. Look, the door is intact! As they say, 'He who has a door has a home.' I'll carry it on my back, and we'll go out into the world to seek our fortune."

And so they went. They walked all day, and by nightfall, they reached a dense forest. Both were exhausted, and Mr. Vinegar said:

"Now, my dear, I'll climb this tree and pull the door up after me, and you follow!"

They did just that. They climbed the tree, pulled up the door, and immediately fell fast asleep. In the middle of the night, Mr. Vinegar was awakened by voices. He looked down and was terrified. A gang of thieves had gathered under the tree, dividing their loot.

"Look, Jack!" said one. "Here's five pounds for you. And you, Bill, get ten. And you, Bob, get three pounds."

Mr. Vinegar couldn't bear to listen any longer—he was so frightened that he began to tremble, causing the door to shake and fall right onto the thieves' heads. They fled in terror. Mr. Vinegar didn't dare move until dawn. Finally, he climbed down, lifted the door, and what did he find beneath it? A pile of golden guineas!

"Come down quickly, Mrs. Vinegar!" he shouted. "Come down! We're rich! Oh, hurry down!"

Mrs. Vinegar hurried down and, seeing the money, jumped for joy.

"Now, my dear," she said, "I'll tell you what to do. There's a fair in the nearby town. Go there and buy a cow. Forty guineas will be more than enough, with some left over. I know how to make cheese and churn butter. You can sell them at the market, and we'll live splendidly!"

Mr. Vinegar happily agreed, took the money, and headed to town. He reached the fair and wandered around until he spotted an excellent red cow for sale.

Judging by its appearance, the cow gave plenty of milk and was generally very fine.

"Ah, if only I could have that cow!" thought Mr. Vinegar. "Then I'd be the happiest man alive!"

He offered all forty guineas for the cow. The seller said that forty guineas wasn't much, but he'd agree for the sake of old times. They struck a deal. Mr. Vinegar got the cow and began parading it around, boasting about his purchase.

Soon, he met a piper playing his bagpipes—"tweedle-dee, tweedle-dum"—with a crowd of children following him, and money pouring into his pockets.

"Ah," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if only I had such a bagpipe! Then I'd be the happiest man alive! I'd be so rich!"

He approached the piper.

"What a bagpipe you have, my friend!" said Mr. Vinegar. "A marvel! It must bring you a fortune!"

"Indeed it does," replied the piper. "I rake in piles of money. This bagpipe is top-notch!"

"If only I had one like it!" exclaimed Mr. Vinegar.

"Well," said the piper, "I might part with it for old times' sake. Take the bagpipe in exchange for that red cow!"

"Deal!" rejoiced Mr. Vinegar. And so, the excellent red cow was traded for a bagpipe. Mr. Vinegar began strolling around again with his new purchase. But no matter how hard he tried to play even a simple tune, nothing came out. He didn't earn a penny, and the children ran after him, jeering, laughing, and pelting him with mud.

Poor Mr. Vinegar decided it was time to go home, and his hands were freezing. As he was leaving town, he met a man wearing warm gloves.

"Oh, my hands are so cold!" thought Mr. Vinegar. "If only I had such gloves! Then I'd be the happiest man alive!"

He approached the man and said:

"Those are fine gloves, my friend! Very nice!"

"Of course! It's November, and my hands are as warm as can be in them."

"Ah," sighed Mr. Vinegar, "if only I had such gloves!"

"How much would you give for them?" asked the man. "I might exchange them for that bagpipe, for old times' sake."

"Agreed!" exclaimed Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves and happily trudged home. He walked and walked, utterly exhausted, when he met a man with a thick stick.

"If only I had that stick!" thought Mr. Vinegar. "Then I'd be the happiest man alive!" And he said to the man:

"What a stick you have, my friend! Rare indeed!"

"It's a good stick," replied the man. "I've walked many miles with it, and it's been a faithful companion. But since you like it so much, I might exchange it for those gloves. For old times' sake, of course."

Mr. Vinegar's hands were warm, but his feet were so tired that he gladly agreed to the trade.

Finally, Mr. Vinegar reached the forest where he had left his wife, and suddenly he heard:

"Mr. Vinegar, oh Mr. Vinegar!" A parrot called to him from a tree. "You fool, you simpleton, you blockhead! You went to the fair and spent all your money on a cow. Not only that—you traded the cow for a bagpipe, which wasn't worth a tenth of your money, and you can't even play it! What a fool! No sooner did you get the bagpipe than you traded it for gloves, which were four times cheaper. You got the gloves and traded them for some worthless stick. You had forty guineas, and now you have no cow, no bagpipe, no gloves—nothing to show for it but this lousy stick! You could have cut one like it from any hedge! Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

The parrot laughed and laughed until Mr. Vinegar finally lost his temper and hurled the stick at it. The stick got stuck in the branches, and Mr. Vinegar returned to his wife in the forest with no money, no cow, no bagpipe, no gloves, and not even a stick. And his wife immediately began to beat him so hard that she nearly broke his bones.

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Mr. Vinegar

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