You lived far from town, in a small cottage. With the exception of the town a few miles away, only your mother and an old dairy cow were your company.
Your cottage was simple, and poor. With only the cow’s milk for income, you lived a life of meager means.
In spite of that, you were, in general, content. Until one day, the cow went dry. With no way of making ends meet, your mother instructed you to take the cow into town, to the market, and sell it.
So, early the next morning, you packed a light bag, took the cow’s lead, and began toward town.
The walk would take about an hour, especially given your meandering pace. This road was only used very occasionally, mostly by you or your mother on your way to town. Which is why you were surprised to see someone else on the road. Walking, but very slowly. Leaning heavily upon a tall walking stick.
As you passed the strange, bent figure, they spoke in a wispy voice. Barely audible over the breeze and rustling grass.
“Excuse me,” they rasped, “I have many fine wares, if you wish to trade.”
You apologized to the strange trader, explaining, you had nothing to trade with. Only the old, dairy cow-gone dry that you were taking to market.
The person thought for a moment than exclaimed. “A fine cow such as this makes a good trade. I offer, in exchange for this old, dairy cow, this bag of magic beans.”
For a moment, you thought better of the deal. This cow was all you and your mother had left. If you traded it away for beans… But they were magic… Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad deal after all.
With a long pause for thought, you finally agreed. The old trader took the lead, and handed you a small brown pouch. Inside you could feel a few hardened beans. The cow now having been traded away, you had no reason to continue toward town. You turned back toward home, your strange prize in hand.
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