The farmer said, He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would….He wasn’t expecting the little boy to come back with this.
There formerly was a farmer who had some puppies he needed to sell, so he covered a signal advertising his 4 pups and staked it near the edge of his ground. As we went to nail the mansion to the last upright, he detected atug on his overalls.
He looked down into the lighting attentions of a bit son wearing abig smile.
Mister, he said, I want to buy one of your puppies.
Well, said the farmer, these puppies come from fine parents and cost a great deal of money.
The boy hunghis head for a moment. Then, he reached deep down into his pocket, gathered out a handful of change and harboured it up to the farmer.Ivegot thirty-nine pennies, he said. “Is that enough to have a look?
Sure, said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistling and announced out Dolly. Here Dolly!
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ranged Dolly followed by four little dances of skin. The little boy’s eyes danced with delight.
But as the dogs drew their mode to the fencing, the little boy noticedsomething else making a stirinside the doghouse.
Slowly another little dance sounded, this one noticeably smaller.
Down the ramp it slithered. Then in a tricky sort, the little pup inaugurated hobbling toward the others, doing its good to catch up
I want that one, the little son said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boys back and said, Son, you dont want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other bird-dogs would.
With that the little son stepped back from the fencing, contacted down, and embarked wheeling up one leg of his trousers. As he did so, he exposed a sword poise running down both sides of his leg appending itself to a specially-made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said, You insure sir, I dont run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands.
With rips in his eyes, the farmer contacted down and picked up the little puppy. Impounding it carefully he sided it to the little boy.
How much? asked the little boy.
No charge, refuted the farmer, Theres no charge for love.