Then came the turn of the third son, who, meaning to make all sure, found some shrubs with the finest sprouts pos­sible and left the goat to devour them.  In the evening, when he came to lead her home, he said,  »Well, goat, are you full?«  And the goat answered,

        »I am so full,
        I could not pull
        Another blade of grass—ba! baa!«

»Then let’s go home,«  said the youth;  and he took her to her stall, and fastened her up.  »Now,«  said the old tailor,  »has the goat had her proper food?«—»Oh,«  answered the son,  »she is so full, she no more can pull.«  But the tailor, not trusting his word, went to the goat and said,  »My dear goat, are you really full?«  The malicious ani­mal answered,

        »How can I be full?
        There was nothing to pull,
        Though I looked all about me—ba! baa!«

»Oh, the wretches!«  cried the tailor.  »The one as good-for-nothing and careless as the other.  I will no longer have such fools about me!«  and rushing back, in his wrath he laid about him with his yard stick and beat his son's back so unmercifully that he ran away out of the house.