Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10.2 9/18/84; site ut-sally.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!burl!ulysses!allegra!bellcore!decvax!genrad!mit-eddie!godot!harvard!seismo!ut-sally!crandell From: crandell@ut-sally.UUCP (Jim Crandell) Newsgroups: net.jokes Subject: Re: no reruns of father goose Message-ID: <646@ut-sally.UUCP> Date: Tue, 15-Jan-85 23:19:06 EST Article-I.D.: ut-sally.646 Posted: Tue Jan 15 23:19:06 1985 Date-Received: Sun, 20-Jan-85 00:33:05 EST References: <154@npois.UUCP> <575@unmvax.UUCP> Organization: U. Texas CS Dept., Austin, Texas Lines: 59 Once upon a time, in Days of Yore, which is located in a rather backwoods area of the country, there lived a remarkably innocent young man named Nathaniel. Now Nathaniel, or Nate, as he was often called, one day came of age, and his oppressive and none too dutiful legal guardians just turned him out into the street, as it were. Before giving him the boot, however, they did take the trouble to inform him that he was, in fact, the heir to what was locally considered a sizable fortune in rural real estate. This comparatively immense farm tract was being held for him and currently managed by a man who turned out to be a rather distant cousin, but who was kindly and surprisingly helpful, eventually doing most of what needed to be done to start Nate out in business on the farm. Very shortly afterward, however, the cousin died, leaving Nate alone with little experience and very few ideas. Poor Nate was absolutely in a quandary as to what sort of reliable cash crop to plant on his land. He had heard that one or two of his neighbors were raising a certain (shall we say) ``herb'', whose production was said to be uncommonly lucrative. Our hero wasn't really into haute cuisine, though, so in search of an expert opinion, he consulted a local soothsayer, an elderly woman whose character was completely beyond question, if you follow my meaning. At the urging afforded by about a third of Nate's annual income, she gazed vacantly into her crystal ball for most of an hour, until she finally intoned, SOW ROPE, NATEY-O! -- Jim Crandell, C. S. Dept., The University of Texas at Austin {ihnp4,seismo,ctvax}!ut-sally!crandell