Sunday, August 29, 2010

THE BAG

 
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I’m so embarrassed! This morning I found a note in my garden and this is what it said: Dear Artisan – It is with great trepidation that I broach this subject, but seeing as me position dictates, I fear I must. You have been accused of thievery – I know it can’t be, but our Miss Ebha has filed a complaint against ya…she says you have stolen her precious evenin’ bag, the one with the beads and the rest of the miscellaneous trifles. Oh, and a found feather, found plain and simple on the forest floor (we wouldn’t be caught dead killin’ another; we’re not that kind!). Now Artisan, I know Miss Ebha tells the tale many a time (in fact Ebha in the ancient tongue means provider of life, but to her back we call her provider of lies, she’s that big a fibber) and I know she had no business on yer estate but she’s our official strawberry wine taster and a good wine taster she is, too. And it seems that she got carried away with the wine tipplin’, turned herself ‘round and instead of taken’ to her bed in the wee hours she landed in yer garden. So if you’ll just be returnin’ the darlin’ wee bag, Miss Ebha can get back to supervision’ the strawberry stompin’ and we’ll not speak of this matter again..and that’s a promise. Liam McSpinagain.
Surely, he doesn’t think that I stole it! Surely he doesn’t. Needless to say I immediately put the little bag back in the garden.

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