A young boy, about nine, opened the door.
'Is your Dad home'? The farmer asked.
'Sorry mate, he isn't' the boy replied. 'He went into town.'
'Well,' said the farmer, 'Is your mum here'?
'No, sir, she's not here either. She went into town with Dad.'
'How about your brother, Greg? Is he here'?
'He went with Mum and Dad.'
The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.
'Is there anything I can do for ya'? The boy asked politely. 'I know
Where all the tools are if you want to borrow one. Or maybe, I could take a message for Dad.'
'Well,' said the farmer uncomfortably, 'I really wanted to talk to your
Dad. It's about your brother Greg getting my daughter pregnant.'
The boy considered for a moment.
'You'd have to talk to Dad about that,' he finally conceded.
'If it helps you any, I know that Dad charges $200 for the bull and $150 for the pig. But I really don't know how much he gets for Greg.'
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