Oh! Good day to you! Have you come for another story?
Well, you're in luck. I heard one just this morning from my sister... I hope I can remember it...
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There was a rich man who had made his fortune in trade. He was a careful and cautious man who had
worked his way steadily to great wealth. He did not risk his gold in dangerous ventures,
he was not fooled into schemes to get rich quick. He had scrimped and saved,
denied himself luxury, had gone without finery and he had concentrated on building a fine business
Now his wife had been his loyal and faithful helper through all of his endeavours and had
stuck by him in the hard times. But now that his business would allow them to live more comfortably
for the rest of their lives she had hoped that her husband would relax their strict regime of saving.
But you see... her husband had fallen into that old trap of making necessity a habit.
He was proud of his savings even though now he could reward himself with a few of life's luxuries.
His wife was frustrated that she still chopped the kindling, that their house
was devoid of decoration, but worst of all that they went out in the same clothes they had worn for years.
Whilst other wealthy men's wives were dressed in their finery, the rich man's wife
had to darn, stitch and mend her clothes because her husband wouldn't allow her any new ones.
One day, the rich man and his wife were preparing to go to the market.
Once again she pulled on the same old dress she always wore, and once again she prepared
herself to be mocked for being old-fashioned, plain and behind the times. She prayed to Saint
Rita that something would be done to change her situation and that she would get a new dress.
The couple had barely gone two steps from the house
when the man cried out in pain.
'Oh my foot!' he cried, 'the pain... what can it be?'
Now, as it happened, there was a wise woman sat on the side of the road with a basket of herbs.
'Let us go and see the wise woman' said his wife.
'A wise woman? A wise woman?!' replied the man.
'Can't you see the pain is more serious than that! I want to go and see the apothecary'.
And so he hobbled on leaning on his wife's shoulder into the market. As they approached
the store, the apothecary noticed them and came out from behind his potions and ointments. He
was a snivelling little fellow with hunger in his eyes and he bade the man sat down. He listened to
the details of his injuries and – after a moment or two with much inspecting of the man's foot – he
said, 'hmm... I can see what your problem is. What you need is a poultice of goose, fat pepper and
cinnamon. It'll be really very hot and will draw out the thing that is causing you your problem'.
'Will it hurt?' asked the man.
'If it doesn't then it isn't working' replied the apothecary.
'How much?' – 'A pound' he said.
'A pound?!' said the wife, 'that will buy me three dresses... we're not paying that much! Come on.'
And with that the rich man was whisked off his stool and taken in the direction of the wise woman.
'No, no... to the barber surgeon! He'll know what to do!' spluttered the rich man.
And so further along the road they found the barber surgeon shop and entered.
The barber surgeon leapt up –some might say a little over enthusiastically – and encouraged the man to sit in a chair and began to inspect his foot.
After a moment or two he said, 'hmm... I can see what your problem is. I will need to take a knife and cut through your flesh and bone, and
then with a saw remove your foot, and then with a searing iron seal the vein and wrap the stump.'
'Will it hurt?' asked the rich man. – 'Hmm... if it doesn't, it isn't working,' replied the barber surgeon.
'How much?' asked the rich man. – 'Two pounds.'
'Two pounds?!' exclaimed the wife, 'that will buy me ten dresses! This is silly... come on, we're going back to the wise woman.'
'No, no... I want to go to the doctor of physic! He'll know what to do,' demanded the rich man.
And so they made their way even further down the street until they came to a large house – the
home of the doctor of physic. The rich man and his wife were shown into a waiting room,
where they waited and they waited and they waited.
Finally, the doctor of physic called them and they made their way to his office. He sat there behind
a large desk. The rich man was very impressed with the room, the paintings and the furniture and he
began to tell the doctor of physic of the pain in his foot. The doctor of physic held up his hand:
'I will cast your horoscope so I can understand the alignment of your stars. Then I will require
from you a urine sample. From this I can understand the balance of your humours.
Then, I will ascertain the cause of your illness and the necessary plan of action to make you well again.'
He then looked at the rich man expecting him to say something, so the rich man asked
'how long will it take?' – 'About a week.'
The rich man thought... he thought about his pain. Could he really cope with that for a week?
'Is it going to hurt?' he asked. – 'Non opusdurissiumum no!'
Which is... well you've probably guessed it... Latin for 'if it isn't, it isn't working'.
'How much will it cost?' asked the rich man. '20 pounds,' said the doctor of physic.
And with that his wife, furious, stood up and dragged the rich man out of the house.
'Right,' she said, 'we are going to see the wise woman!'
The rich man conceded and they both walked – or in his case hobbled – back to the place where the
pain had first hit him. As they approached, the wise woman smiled and got up from her stool. The
wife explained how her husband had a poor foot and asked if there was anything that could be done.
The wise woman gently encouraged him to sit on her stool and she took a quick look at his foot.
She frowned and then began to search in her basket. As she did so, she asked if anything had been done
for the pain. The rich man and his wife began to tell the story of their journey to see the
apothecary, the barber surgeon and the doctor of physic. The wise woman looked at them.
Clearly, they had money to spend and yet the wife's dress was so old and outdated. As the rich man began to
detail the fine paintings in the doctor's house, she drew from her basket a pair of pliers and at
the same time dropped a coin – a penny – on the floor. With the sound of the penny dropping the
rich man bent down to collect it and while he was distracted she pulled out from his foot a nail.
The rich man and his wife stared at the wise woman as she handed over the nail. It was very long and
must have been very painful. She reached behind her to get a fresh cobweb. She placed it over the
hole in the man's foot and the bleeding stopped.
'How much?' asked the rich man.
'Why nothing' said the bemused wise woman, 'but I do think you ought to buy your wife a new dress,
for all the good care that she's taken of you'.
And with that the rich man did.
And so the moral of my story is sometimes the simplest answer is right there in front of you, but you can't see it for looking!
Now, I've finished so I best go and lay a fire. It's been good to share my stories with you.
I hope I see you again. Best wishes.
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