Next morning, when the goldsmith did not open his shop as usual, the
neighbors forced their way in and found him buried beneath the pile.
The plowman reached home and told his wife about the ring.
"Our fortune is made," he said, showing it to her. "Of course we must
consider the matter well; then, when we have made up our minds as to
what we need most, we can wish as I turn the ring on my finger."
"Suppose," said his wife, "we were to wish for a better farm? The land
we have now is so small as to be almost useless."
"Yes," said the plowman. "But, if we work hard and spend little for a
year or two, we might be able to buy as much as we want. Then we would
still have our wish."
So it was agreed. For a year the plowman worked hard and his wife
saved. Harvest time came and the crops were splendid. At the end of
the year they were able to buy a nice farm, and still had some money
left.
"There," said the man, "we have the land, and we still have our wish."
"Well," said his wife, "we could do very well with a horse and a cow."
"They are not worth wishing for," said he. "We can get them as we got
the land."
So they went on working steadily and spending wisely for another year.
At the end of that time they bought both the horse and the cow.
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