Funny Story for Kids - Tale With A Twist

 Tale With A Twist

Monty was an orphan. When he grew up, he made dolls and toys with clay and took them to the market where he sold them and earned a meager income. His dolls were pretty looking and he had no difficulty in selling them. He even took them to the neighboring villages where they attracted many buyers. Sometimes he also went to villages and towns far away in search of customers. One evening, he was returning from a place quite far away. Unfortunately, he could not sell many dolls, though he remained there well past dusk. On his way back, he had to pass through a desolate place. By the time he reached there, he was feeling tired and wanted to rest for the night, as there was no point in hurrying back to his own village. As he searched for a place to rest, he found a flickering light at a distance. Must be a house, he thought and hastened his pace. It was a small house. The door was open and he entered, holding the basket of dolls and toys with both hands. In the faint glimmer of an oil lamp, he found an old man sitting on the floor. "Sir, I am coming from far, and it's already late in the night," he said very courteously. "Could I take rest here? I shall go away when the day breaks." "You're welcome, young man," said the lone man in the room. "You place that basket in one corner, and come and sit here. I shall cook some food and we will share it." 

Monty was surprised over the man's readiness to share his roof as well as food which he was to cook himself. He thought he was very lucky. The old man, meanwhile, went into the kitchen and came back after a few minutes. "It'll take some time for the rice to cook," said the old man, as he went back to the mat on the floor and sat down. "You come and sit by my side, and let me hear you sing a song!" He invited Monty to sit down. "Uncle! I'm sorry I don't know how to sing," said Monty apologetically. "It doesn't matter, young man, you can at least tell me a story," prompted the old man. "Uncle please forgive me, I don't know how to tell a story either!" said Monty pitifully. The old man was really put out. "You can't sing, you can't even tell a story!" he said, angrily. "Then, you can't remain here for another moment. Go away!" he shouted. Monty was in a quandary. How else could he please him? No, he had clearly said he could not stay there for the night if he could not sing or narrate a tale to his satisfaction, and he was quite adamant that he went away. Monty did not wish to create a scene, so he picked up his basket and went out. Where should he go? he wondered. The village where he came from would be nearer than his own village. So he began walking back from where he had started in the evening. It was quite dark by then. Suddenly he saw a fire at a distance. As he approached, he could just make out that someone was cooking something on the wayside. The man stopped stirring in the pot when he saw a stranger standing near him. But what was strange and surprising to Monty was, he called him by his name! "Monty, would you please take the ladle and keep on stirring till I come back? I shall be back soon," he said, as he handed the ladle to him. He then disappeared. While he remained to wonder how the man knew his name, Monty stirred and stirred whatever was in the pot.

As the fire was below and it was pitch dark all around, he could not see properly what was in the pot. However, it was full to the brim, though he could only guess that there would be just two persons to eat all that stuff in the pot if at all the man would be kind enough to invite him to share it. Meanwhile, there was still no trace of the man and no indication whatever that he was coming back. Monty was desperate as he was not certain whether he could now stop stirring. He began shouting for the man. There was no response. He shouted aloud, then louder, still, there was no answer. "Hey! Why are you shouting?" Monty heard someone speak from behind. He turned around, ladle in hand, but could not see anybody. "Why have you stopped stirring?" The voice was stern. Was it any ghost or spirit? Monty turned around again and threw the ladle to where he thought the voice had come from. "What audacity!" Now it was the ladle that was speaking! It rose from where it had fallen off Monty's hands and began beating him black and blue, on the head and back. Monty tried to ward off the blows for some time, but when the blows became a veritable shower, he ran away from the place, leaving his basket of dolls on the road. He ran and ran and suddenly he saw a house and a faint light burning. The door was open and he entered and fell down on the floor, exhausted. It was the same house from where he had gone away some time ago. "What happened, young man?" queried the old man. "You look as if you had seen a ghost!" "Uncle! It's you! Thank god!" Monty heaved a sigh of relief. He then narrated all that had happened. "Well, well, that's a nice story to hear!" said the old man, with a chuckle. "You could have told me this story earlier, and I wouldn't have asked you to go away! All right, go and wash your hands. The food is ready. We shall eat together!" Monty did nothing but gave a faint smile as he was hungry and tired to the fullest. 

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