The only cow in a small town in Poland stopped
>
> > giving milk. The people did some research and found
>
> > that they could buy a cow from Moscow for 2,000
>
> > rubles, or one from Minsk for 1,000 rubles. Being
>
> > frugal, they bought the cow from Minsk. The cow was
>
> > wonderful. It produced lots of milk all the time,
>
> > and the people were amazed and very happy. They
>
> > decided to acquire a bull to mate with the cow and
>
> > produce more cows like it. Then they would never
>
> > have to worry about the milk supply again. They
>
> > bought a bull and put it in the pasture with their
>
> > beloved cow. However, whenever the bull came close
>
> > to the cow, the cow would move away. No matter what
>
> > approach the bull tried, the cow would move away
>
> > from the bull and he could not succeed in his quest.
>
> > The people were very upset and decided to ask the
>
> > rabbi, who was very wise, what to do. They told the
>
> > rabbi what was happening. "Whenever the bull
>
> > approaches our cow, she moves away. If he approaches
>
> > from the back, she moves forward. When he approaches
>
> > her from the front, she backs off. An approach from
>
> > the side and she just walks away to the other side."
>
> > The rabbi thought about this for a minute and asked,
>
> > "Did you buy this cow from Minsk?" The people were
>
> > dumbfounded, since they had never mentioned where
>
> > they had gotten the cow. "You are truly a wise
>
> > rabbi," they said. "How did you know we got the cow
>
> > from Minsk?" The rabbi answered sadly, "My wife is
>
> > from Minsk." >>A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's
>>Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed,
>>life-sized bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and
>>unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner what it costs.
>>
>>"Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and a thousand
>>dollars more for the story behind it."
>>
>>"You can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the rat."
>>
>>The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat
>>under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live
>>rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously
>>looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he
>>passes another sewer drain, more rats come out and follow him.
>>
>>By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his
>>heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon
>>breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements,
>>vacant lots, and abandoned cars. Rats by the thousands are at his heels,
>>and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill, he panics and
>>starts to run full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up,
>>squealing hideously, now not just thousands but millions; so that by the
>>time he comes rushing up to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve city
>>blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light
>>post, grasping it with one arm while he hurls the bronze rat into San
>>Francisco Bay with the other, as far as he can heave it. Pulling his legs
>>up and clinging to the light post, he watches in amazement as the seething
>>tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown.
>>
>>Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop.
>>
>>"Ah, so you've come back for the rest of the story," says the owner.
>>
>>"No," says the tourist, "I was wondering if you have a bronze Republican." |
