There was once a poor woman who had a son, who much wished to travel, but his mother said, how can you travel. We have no money at all for you to take away with you. Then said the son, I will manage very well for myself. I will always say, not much, not much, not much. So he walked for a long time and always said, not much, not much, not much. Then he passed by a company of fishermen and said, God speed you. Not much, not much, not much. What do you say, churl¹, not much. And when the net was drawn² out they had not caught much fish. So one of them fell on the youth with a stick and said, have you never seen me threshing. What ought I to say, then, asked the youth. You must say - get it full, get it full. After this he again walked a long time, and said, get it full, get it full, until he came to the gallows³, where they had got a poor sinner whom they were about to hang. Then said he, good morning, get it full, get it full. What do you say, knave⁴, get it full. Do you want to make out that there are still more wicked people in the world. Is not this enough. And he again got some blows on his back. What am I to say, then, said he. You must say, may God have pity on the poor soul. Again the youth walked on for along while and said, may God have pity on the poor soul. Then he came to a pit by which stood a knacker who was cutting up a horse. The youth said, good morning. God have pity on the poor soul. What do you say, you ill-tempered knave, and the knacker gave him such a box on the ear, that he could not see out of his eyes. What am I to say, then. You must say, let the carrion⁵ lie in the pit. So he walked on, and always said, let the carrion lie in the pit, let the carrion lie in the pit. And he came to a cart full of people, so he said, good morning, let the carrion lie in the pit. Then the cart fell into a pit, and the driver took his whip and cracked it upon the youth, till he was forced to crawl back to his mother, and as long as he lived he never went out a traveling again.