Albrecht was a farmer. His father was a farmer, and his father’s father was a farmer. So too were the fathers and grandfathers before them farmers. It only made sense that Albrecht continue the long tradition and become a farmer too. From the time he could wobble away from his mother's knee he learned to farm. He learned when to plant which seeds. He learned which dung was best for fertilizations. He learned which plants to sew in with his crops to keep away pests. He learned everything his father could teach him, everything his father could teach him about farming that is.
Every year when the farm produced a surplus Albrecht's father would take some of it and go to town. He would find those who needed the most and give to them some of the bounty his crops had produced. He would sell the remainder in the market place. As Albrecht grew older he realized how much more he could have if his father would quit giving so much away. That is not to say that Albrecht didn't have more than enough to satisfy most any boy, just that he wanted more. Albrecht's father tried hard to teach his son compassion but to no avail. Albrecht was concerned with no one but himself. As far as he was concerned his mother and father even were second to his whims.
As he grew older Albrecht began to lie, to cheat, to even steal. His unscrupulous nature knew no bounds. What Albrecht wanted he took, what made him happy he did, and lied all along the way to cover it up.
One day on his way into town, where his mother and father believed him to have a job working for the local tavern, Albrecht came across a crumpled looking old woman. She pulled along a rickety hand cart bursting with all manner of things.
“Buy a bauble to help an old woman make a penny?” she croaked as he came nearer to her.
He had planned on ignoring her, maybe spitting in her general direction, until a glimmer from with in the cart caught his eye. He pawed past the piles of junk. There were mismatched sets of chipped dishes, sad socks with no mates, corkless bottles, and all manner of little figurines. There were animals and mythical beasts, little men and women, babies, children, even some insects. One of these is what caught his fancy. He picked up a small intricately carved statuette of a black spider with a beautiful red jewel set in its abdomen. He turned it over in his hand admiring the detail for a moment. As he looked closely at the jewel he remembered he had no coin in his pockets. With so much stuff packed into the cart there’s no way she would miss this one, he thought. He glanced over at her. The crone leaned tiredly against the side of the hand cart. Her eyes were mere slits as she sighed and massaged one knobby knee with her gnarled and crooked hand. Albrecht saw his chance and jostled the cart causing the woman to stumble and spilling some of the carts contents onto the dusty ground. He slipped the spider into his pocket at the same time. With a cruel chuckle he began to walk away.
"You've something of mine in your pocket there boy.” ,came the raspy voice of the woman.
"What makes you think you can steal from my cart?"
Albrecht turned around boldly. He pulled the spider statuette from his pocket and held it up.
"Why shouldn't I have what I want from your pile of garbage? You should be happy I didn't push you to the dirt to make way for myself on the road. I am as high above you as, as, as a king is above a toad ,you old bat."
As he finished he kicked dirt towards her and spat. Before he could turn away towards town again she began to laugh.
"A king are you?” ,she spoke softly with amusement.
She pointed her crooked finger at him and muttered a musical phrase.
Albrecht's eyes went wide. He dropped his ill gotten prize and doubled over in pain.
"uhhhhnnn" ,he moaned.
The woman continued to cackle as Albrecht clutched his middle and scrunched his eyes shut.
When she finally stopped laughing in a fit of dry coughs Albrecht realized his eyes were open and the pain was gone. He tried to move, realizing he couldn't he looked around. The decrepit old woman was no where to be seen, nor her cart, just a vast expanse of dry dusty dirt. He heard a shuffling and a wheezing then felt something placed on his head.
"There you go your majesty; your crown suits you well."
The peddler leaned laboriously down and lifted her new bauble, a cute little toad with a crown on his head. This one, she thought would fetch a nice price at the market. A single small tear dropped from the eye of the toad king as she tossed him along with an intricately carved spider into her overstuffed hand cart.
Drawn with mouse on http://www.2draw.net/ though I can't remember which program I used.
Art and story Copyrighted to me, don't use without permission.
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