One sunny Saturday afternoon, Jack and Jill Bower sat playing in the garden. “Jack? Jill?” cried their mother, looking frantically for the two young kids. “I need you to head down the road to the well to grab some water for supper. We haven’t got any left,” she said, relieved after she found them right before Jill pulled up a bunch of her prized pansies.
“Right now?” cried Jack, who had been enjoying rolling in the dirt.
“Well, that depends,” said their mother. “Would you like my special stew for dinner or not?” Jack and Jill immediately flew up from their spots in the garden. Mom’s stew is the best. “Grab the pail from the shed and get moving. It’s almost dark.”
Jack and Jill started the journey down the dirt path, Jill skipping and …show more content…
I’ll help!” replied Jill irritably.
“One… two… three… pull!” Still nothing.
This bucket had a mind of its own. Suddenly, a noise echoed in the well. A wail. A howl. A grunt. Jill looked nervously over the side of the well and shuddered. This was not good. Sitting at the bottom of the well with purple scales and a long, raptor-like tail sat the villain of all tales told to young children. The well monster. This monster needed the water to sustain his life at the bottom of the pit, and would not let anybody take it away from him. Taking his water was like asking him not to breathe. “Uh, Jack?” gulped Jill. “Um, we have a little problem here.”
Jack knew by the sound of Jill’s voice that she was scared. When Jack realized why, he was too. With all his might, Jack tugged with all the strength his small-framed body could muster. The monster released. Jack and Jill, with fear in their eyes, tore down the hill, stumbling. Proceeding with incredible speed down the path, Jack didn’t notice the water in the bucket splashing out and onto the dry ground. When they got home, they ran inside and Jack handed his mother the bucket.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Mrs. Bower. “This bucket is empty, Jack. Where is the
“Right now?” cried Jack, who had been enjoying rolling in the dirt.
“Well, that depends,” said their mother. “Would you like my special stew for dinner or not?” Jack and Jill immediately flew up from their spots in the garden. Mom’s stew is the best. “Grab the pail from the shed and get moving. It’s almost dark.”
Jack and Jill started the journey down the dirt path, Jill skipping and …show more content…
I’ll help!” replied Jill irritably.
“One… two… three… pull!” Still nothing.
This bucket had a mind of its own. Suddenly, a noise echoed in the well. A wail. A howl. A grunt. Jill looked nervously over the side of the well and shuddered. This was not good. Sitting at the bottom of the well with purple scales and a long, raptor-like tail sat the villain of all tales told to young children. The well monster. This monster needed the water to sustain his life at the bottom of the pit, and would not let anybody take it away from him. Taking his water was like asking him not to breathe. “Uh, Jack?” gulped Jill. “Um, we have a little problem here.”
Jack knew by the sound of Jill’s voice that she was scared. When Jack realized why, he was too. With all his might, Jack tugged with all the strength his small-framed body could muster. The monster released. Jack and Jill, with fear in their eyes, tore down the hill, stumbling. Proceeding with incredible speed down the path, Jack didn’t notice the water in the bucket splashing out and onto the dry ground. When they got home, they ran inside and Jack handed his mother the bucket.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Mrs. Bower. “This bucket is empty, Jack. Where is the