Gnarly Bramble

Once upon a time there lived a frustrated fairy princess named
Gretchen. All day long Gretchen would spit and groan and holler and
hoot, about the state of her garden.

"I should like you to issue a proclamation, Father."

"Concerning what, my dear?"

"I want it known throughout the kingdom that I would like someone to
tend to my garden. I am two score and ten, and can no longer wait for
the right gardener to happen by.

"I have tried in vain to maintain the garden myself, but the results
are always unsatisfactory and futile. The proclamation should state
that only an experienced gardener with the biggest hoe will be allowed
through the front gates. The right gardener will be allowed to live in
our kingdom, untaxed and unmolested, for the rest of his life."

Her father, the king, knew it was pointless to argue with his
daughter, and so he issued the proclamation.

On the first day of spring, a thousand and one strong and able-bodied
men lined up outside the castle gates.

But of all the men who showed up with their hoes in hand, it was Franz
who caught the attention of Gretchen.

It wasn't that Franz was handsome. He wasn't that at all. And it
wasn't that Franz was charming. He wasn't that, either. In fact, he was
the most vulgar peasant in the kingdom. What did catch Gretchen's fancy
was that Franz was the only man who needed to transport his hoe in a
wheelbarrow.

"Now that's a hoe master if I ever saw one," thought Gretchen.

"Ouch!" thought the king. "I hope the old dears' sod is soft enough
for the likes of that big hoe. If not used properly, a thing like that
could ruin the whole field."

The other men gaped and groaned at the sight of Franz and his hoe
toting wheelbarrow, then they crept away, dragging their impish
implements between their legs.

That very evening, the vulgar peasant had his first look at Gretchen's
garden.

Franz commenced to poke around the garden with his hoe, then stopped
in his tracks.

"Why there's your problem, right there, miss," said Franz. "Look at
all that stiff and gnarly bramble sprouting out of every nook and
cranny. You've let it go for too long, you have. Here, let's cut away
some of this mess, and see if I can't give my hoe a good work out . .
."

Hans Christian Andersen put down his pen and thought again about which
direction he wanted to take his writing.