The Complete Short Fiction by Oscar Wilde, Ian Small Page A

ear.
    â€˜â€œAnd how have you been all the winter?” said the Miller.
    â€˜â€œWell, really,” cried Hans, “it is very good of you to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid I had rather a hard time of it, but now the spring has come, and I am quite happy, and all my flowers are doing well.”
    â€˜â€œWe often talked of you during the winter, Hans,” said the Miller, “and wondered how you were getting on.”
    â€˜â€œThat was kind of you,” said Hans; “I was half afraid you had forgotten me.”
    â€˜â€œHans, I am surprised at you,” said the Miller; “friendship never forgets. That is the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid you don’t understand the poetry of life. How lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-bye!”
    â€˜â€œThey are certainly very lovely,” said Hans, “and it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many. I am going to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster’s daughter, and buy back my wheelbarrow with the money.”
    â€˜â€œBuy back your wheelbarrow? You don’t mean to say you have sold it? What a very stupid thing to do!”
    â€˜â€œWell, the fact is,” said Hans, “that I was obliged to. You see the winter was a very bad time for me, and I really had no money at all to buy bread with. So I first sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. But I am going to buy them all back again now.”
    â€˜â€œHans,” said the Miller, “I will give you my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good repair; indeed, one side is gone, and there is something wrong with the wheel-spokes; but in spite of that I will give it to you. I know it is very generous of me, and a great many people would think me extremely foolish for parting with it, but I am not like the rest of the world. I think that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may set your mind at ease, I will give you my wheelbarrow.”
    â€˜â€œWell, really, that is generous of you,” said little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. “I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house.”
    â€˜â€œA plank of wood!” said the Miller; “why, that is just what Iwant for the roof of my barn. There is a very large hole in it, and the corn will all get damp if I don’t stop it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It is quite remarkable how one good action always breeds another. I have given you my wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give me your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank, but true friendship never notices things like that. Pray get it at once, and I will set to work at my barn this very day.”
    â€˜â€œCertainly,” cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged the plank out.
    â€˜â€œIt is not a very big plank,” said the Miller, looking at it, “and I am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof there won’t be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow with; but, of course, that is not my fault. And now, as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I am sure you would like to give me some flowers in return. Here is the basket, and mind you fill it quite full.”
    â€˜â€œQuite full?” said little Hans, rather sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket, and he knew that if he filled it he would have no flowers left for the market, and he was very anxious to get his silver buttons back.
    â€˜â€œWell, really,” answered the Miller, “as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don’t think that it is much to ask you for a few flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness of any kind.”
    â€˜â€œMy dear friend, my