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Butterflies lifted my carriage over the Pyrenees after the mules gave out. I whistled up about a million of them and tied each to the roof with a silk thread. The flight was smooth, though quite pale and dusty. Customs officers at the border charged me for one very large moth.

Sheep's clothing fools no one in my county. A wolf came to my gate wearing a full fleece, and I asked him to shear it for the poor. He blushed. He sewed mittens for forty orphans, and he now works as a shepherd in a village near Vilnius.

Windmills near Delft took to walking one stormy autumn. I caught the ringleader by his sails and gave him a talking to. He promised to settle down, and he ground flour for the poor. Two others fled toward France, and you may still spot them on a breezy day.

My gray mare could read, a fact I kept from the neighbors. She liked poems and hated sums. Once she found a spelling error on a road sign and refused to pass. We stood there for two days until the king himself sent a painter with a brush and a humble note.

Compasses point north because I owe money in the.