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Re: A story! A story!

    Corun of ready wit (and fleet feet), answered my call for a story
    with this tale sent to me privately, then asked that I forward it
    for all to enjoy.  Please direct your critiques to him.  I'm
    laughing too hard to pay attention.


Lady Ianthe wrote, asking for a story or song:
>      Please!  I call to you.  Join me in a simple delight.
>      -Ianthe

Milady, if you will allow me to indulge your request.

<pulling up a stool and having a pull at his tankard>

Once, there was a Mongol, and then there were many, but that's not the
story I'm going to tell. This Mongol had a horse. But he did not take
very good care of his horse. It was never combed or brushed, and the
horse's coat became shaggy, and birds began to nest in the horse's mane.
Now this in itself did not bother the Mongol that much, except that the
birds kept up a constant tweeting and chirping. He tried several times
and many different methods to rid his horse of the birds, but to No avail.

Finally, he asked the local shaman if he had a remedy, and the shaman
said, "Yes. You must take yeast which is used in making bread, and for
seven days you must sprinkle the yeast onto the mane of the horse."

The Mongol bought a large quantity of yeast, and went home, and for
seven days he sprinkled yeast onto the mane of his horse. And on the
seventh day, all of the birds that had been nesting in the horse's mane
took wing and flew away, never to return. The Mongol was delighted, but
at the same time somewhat confused as to how this worked, so he went
back to the shaman and asked him, "Oh great and wise shaman, how is it
that sprinkling yeast into my horse's mane caused the birds to leave?"

The shaman looked at the man and said, "It's really quite simple. You
see, yeast is yeast, and nest is nest, and never the mane shall tweet."

In service <ducking and running>,

   Corun MacAnndra   | I don't know why you seem to think this is magic. It's
 Dark Horde by birth | just this little <click> chromium switch. My you people
   Moritu by choice  | are so superstitious. -- The Electrician