Once upon a time in a little cabin there lived a farmer, whose name was Mick. He worked very hard, but was very poor. His wife did what she could in order to help him, as their children were too young to work in the fields. The poor woman looked after the house, milked the cow, boiled the potatoes, and carried eggs to the market. At the end of the summer they had hardly had enough money to pay the landlord.
Then came a bad year. Day after day the rain poured down. Their small crop was spoiled, the chickens died. So they had no money to pay the landlord.
«What can we do, Molly?» said the farmer sadly to his wife.
«You must take the cow to the market, Mick, and sell her,» said Molly.
«I believe you are right, Molly. I’ll go tomorrow.»
Early next morning he took his stick in his hand, and drove his cow slowly along the road. It was a fine day and the sun shone brightly on the fields. After six long miles the farmer came to the top of the hill, which is now called Bottle Hill, but that was not the name of it at that time. Just then he met a man.