he exclaimed, and again, “No! I would never take such a thing as this from its rightful maker, unless I first paid him its fair price! What is your price, shopkeeper?”
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The shopkeeper, taken aback by the outburst, gulped and tried to speak, but didn’t have a ready answer. The
mage glanced to the side, where the shopkeeper of the adjacent
shop was watching. At the glance from the mage, that shopkeeper
wished that he had been elsewhere, but too late. “You!” the mage
exclaimed. “You know this man! What price would he ask
for such a treasure as this?” That shopkeeper, too, hesitated.
“Well now,” asked the mage in exasperation, “Have we here a market
of mutes? What price?”
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The shopkeeper next door found his voice, for
it wasn’t his own price that was asked, but that of the master
craftsman in wood. “I think,” he announced, “that he would take
no less than 60 pennies for such a prize!”
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The mage turned back to the maker of the staff.
“Is that your price? Sixty pennies?” The shopkeeper nodded confirmation. The mage reached within his worn and tattered garment and took from some hiding place therein a leathern bag, drawn and tied with a small cord. He opened the bag and pored onto the table top some pennies. He counted out 60 of them, put what remained
back into the bag, pulled and tied the cord, and returned the bag
to his garment. He picked up has new staff and stood it on its
end. He thumped it against the ground once, just for good measure.
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The shopkeeper handed the coins to his apprentice, who dropped them into a pocket of his work apron. “Take them,” said the shopkeeper, with a gesture. The apprentice looked uneasy at having so many pennies in his possession, and under the gaze of so many people in the large crowd that had gathered. Nevertheless, he walked back to his bench and brought forth a cudgel. He made as if to walk around the end of the table but the mage leaned his new staff sideways, blocking the way. “Wait,” he said, and reaching out, he touched both the cudgel and the arm that held it. They both sparkled for a moment. There was a murmur of wonder from the crowd.
After the story was told around the region, none of the local toughs would be so foolish as to confront this particular apprentice, not when both arm and cudgel had been touched by a mage.
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The apprentice, no longer nervous, strode away toward whatever secret place he and his master used to hide their coins. The mage reached out and pushed his old staff across the
table, toward the shopkeeper. “Here,” he said. “In addition you shall have this. It has been depleted of magic these many years but, even so, it was the staff of a mage and so might have some small value to you.”
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The shopkeeper was astonished at such a gift, an actual staff of
an actual traveling mage, and a whole street full of witnesses to verify it! He reached for his wonderful staff but the mage said, “Wait,” and he touched the staff with the end of a finger. It sparkled briefly, and there were more murmurs from the crowd. He said, “Now, you may sell it if you wish, but nobody will be able to steal if from you.” The shopkeeper picked it up and carried it carefully past the many items of wood that cluttered his shop, and leaned it in the same corner that had
held the other staff. He turned, trying to think of some words that
would adequately thank the mage, but the mage had already turned and was
walking away. It seemed that he walked a little faster than before, and stood a little straighter. It seemed that he leaned less heavily on his new staff than he had leaned on the old one. It was a topic of debate for many years thereafter.
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As he made his slow way to the other end of the market street, people moved respectfully aside, and watched in respectful silence as he passed.
He moved in an island of silence. Whispers followed.
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The old mage made his way to the edge of the village. There, he stopped and rested for a while, under a tree. Some people believed that he slept. Others believed that he meditated. For years thereafter, it was a subject of debate. After a while, he stood, turned, and without a backward glance, walked away from the village, toward distant lands.
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Her SchnauzerOriginal Source Unknown. Forwarded by Don G.![15x5 Page Background GIF Image](../../Images/15x5_Page_Background.gif)
A woman took her pet Schnauzer to the veterinarian, concerned
that her dog was losing his hearing. After the exam, the vet assured the woman that the dog had passed the hearing test but suggested that she buy some hair remover to get rid of the excess hair in the dog’s ears.
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On the way home, the woman stopped at a drug store to purchase a depilatory. As she was paying for her purchase, the pharmacist offered her some advice.
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“Use full strength for legs and dilute one-half for underarms.”
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“Oh,” the lady said, “It’s for my Schnauzer.”
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The pharmacist hesitated. “In that case,” he said, “you’d better dilute by one-third. Also, maybe you shouldn’t go bike
riding for a while afterwards, either.”
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