by Max Reif


     Farmer Brown woke up at the crack of dawn, washed his face, pulled on his overalls, gulped down a cup of coffee, and walked outside in the early morning light, pail in hand, to go and milk his…tigers!
     An hour or so later, Farmer Brown was laying all battered and bruised, and very muddy, on the ground. But—beside him was his big aluminum pail, filled to the very top with fresh tigers' milk!
     Farmer Brown wasn't able to lie there and nurse his wounds for very long, because by the time the sun got to the top of the sky at noon, he had to get over to another part of his farm—over by the river—so he could collect the eggs from underneath his…crocodiles!
     Well, about an hour after noon you could find Farmer Brown stretched flat out on the ground once again. This time he felt like every bone in his body had been crushed into pulp. But—beside him on the ground were his big pail of tigers' milk and a large basket full of huge, white crocodile eggs.
     Farmer Brown scratched his head. "I never knowed bein' a farmer was supposed to be this hard!" he said out loud as he pulled himself to a sitting position. But he still didn't have time to sit there for very long. Before the sun went down in the sky that evening he had to get over to still a different part of his farm—over where the big trees were—so he could shear the wool off of his...gorillas!
     Just before sunset, Farmer Brown was yet again laying stretched out on the ground—this time completely senseless. But...around him in a circle were his big pail of tigers' milk, his big basket of crocodile eggs, and a great big bag stuffed to the very top with Grade-A gorilla wool!
     Soon Farmer Brown woke up. "I must be doin' somethin' wrong!" he muttered as he slowly pulled himself to his feet.
     Farmer Brown picked up the pail of tigers' milk in one hand. He lifted the basket of crocodile eggs and cradled it against his chest. Finally, he slung the bag of gorilla wool over his shoulder. Still muttering to himself, he began limping slowly down the road toward home.
                                                     * * * *    
                                continued on page 2

Stories page