The cannibal got a funny look on his face, seemed about to say more, then thought better of it. And he got on his horse and rode away with the others.

Weeks passed. Life in Swampmuck returned to normal for everyone but Farmer Hayworth. He was distracted, and during the day he could often be found leaning on his mucking stick, gazing out over the swamps. He was thinking about the purse of money, which he’d hidden in a hole. What should he do with it?

His friends all made suggestions.

“You could buy a wardrobe of beautiful clothes,” said Farmer Bettelheim.

“But what would I do with them?” Farmer Hayworth replied. “I work in the swamps all day; they would only get ruined.”

“You could buy a library of fine books,” suggested Farmer Hegel.

“But I can’t read,” replied Hayworth, “and neither can anyone in Swampmuck.”

Farmer Bachelard’s suggestion was silliest of all. “You should buy an elephant,” he said, “and use it to haul all your swampweed to market.”

“But it would eat all the swampweed before I could sell it!” said Hayworth, becoming exasperated. “If only I could do something about my house. The reeds do little to keep the wind out, and it gets drafty in the winter.”

“You could use the money to paper the walls,” said Farmer Anderson.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Farmer Sally piped up. “Just buy a new house!”

And that’s exactly what Hayworth did: he built a house made of wood, the first ever constructed in Swampmuck. It was small but sturdy and kept out the wind, and it even had a door that swung open and shut on hinges. Farmer Hayworth was very proud, and his house was the envy of the entire village.

Some days later, another group of visitors arrived. There were four of them, three men and a woman, and because they were dressed in fine clothes and rode on Arabian horses, the villagers knew right away who they were—law-abiding cannibals from the coast of Meek.3 These cannibals, however, did not appear to be starving.

Again the villagers gathered round to marvel at them. The cannibal woman, who wore a shirt spun with gold thread, pants buttoned with pearls, and boots trimmed with fox fur, said: “Friends of ours came to your village some weeks ago, and you showed them great kindness. Because we are not a people accustomed to kindness, we have come to thank you in person.”

And the cannibals got down from their horses and bowed to the villagers, then went about shaking the villagers’ hands. The villagers were amazed at the softness of the cannibals’ skin.

“One more thing before we go!” said the cannibal woman. “We heard you have a unique talent. Is it true you regrow lost limbs?”

The villagers told them it was true.

“In that case,” the woman said, “we have a modest proposal for you. The limbs we eat on the coast of Meek are rarely fresh, and we’re tired of rotten food. Would you sell us some of yours? We would pay handsomely, of course.”