I was rockin' on the porch with ma wee Grannie one fair eve, when the thought
comes to me that, havin' been a picture of lovliness in her youth and bein' in
posession of a decent man (my Granpy), she could lend me some advice as to how
to catch me a mate of me own. When I posed the question to her, she replied as
follows: "Cookin."
"What nature of cookin?" I asks.
"A lovely bean soup" she replies, "no man on earth can resist it. Here's the
recipe: Take you a large big pot of pure spring water and set it to the boil.
Cut you up into pieces the size of a mouse's squeek some root veggies such as
carrots and turnips and such like, and add them along with a ham hock from a
fat little pig. Now this is the critical part- pick over some soup beans and
find the very best. Count-cha out exactly too hunnert and tirty nine beans and
add 'em to the pot."
"Well, that seems like an odd number, Gran," I says to her, "why not add just
one more bean to the soup?"
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