A Milkmaid had been out to milk the cows and was returning from
the field with the shining milk pail balanced nicely on her head.
As she walked along, her pretty head was busy with plans for the
days to come.
"This good, rich milk," she mused, "will give me plenty of cream
to churn. The butter I make I will take to market, and with the
money I get for it I will buy a lot of eggs for hatching. How
nice it will be when they are all hatched and the yard is full of
fine young chicks. Then when May day comes I will sell them, and
with the money I'll buy a lovely new dress to wear to the fair.
All the young men will look at me. They will come and try to make
love to me,--but I shall very quickly send them about their
business!"
[Illustration]
As she thought of how she would settle that matter, she tossed
her head scornfully, and down fell the pail of milk to the
ground. And all the milk flowed out, and with it vanished butter
and eggs and chicks and new dress and all the milkmaid's pride.
_Do not count your chickens before they are hatched._