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Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack, though a mere child and certainly no hydrologist, pondered the obvious folly inherent in drilling a well atop a hill. Certainly this would increase the shaft depth required to reach the water table by an amount equal to the height of the hill, not to mention the additional effort of climbing the hill in order to fetch a pail of water necessitated by such a poorly chosen location.
The well was of a now obsolete open design equipped with a bucket, which could be lowered and raised with an attached rope looped over a pulley rather than a more modern covered version equipped with a pump. A well such as this would not be permissible under modern day safety standards and insurance regulations- Indeed, parents who sent their children on an errand to a potential deathtrap such as this would be deemed unfit for parenting.
Jack was peering down the well, distracted as he pondered its strange location, instead of minding his precarious position. Jack fell down and broke his crown as well as dislodging several new fillings. He knew his parents would be furious due to the expense of dentistry in those days of yore.
“My crown! My crown!” Jack’s cries were muffled due to the well’s depth. Jill thought he was shouting “Come down! Come down!” Jill went tumbling after.
Several hours later another child, equally neglected and somewhat easily frightened, came up the hill with the same hazardous mission. Upon hearing unearthly wailing and moaning emanating from the well’s depths, he dropped his bucket and ran screaming back home.
Wild rumors and panic spread throughout the town. “The well is haunted!” “Demons of the depths have possessed our well!” A posse of the bravest of the town’s men ascended the hill. They filled the well to the brim with boulders and topped it off with dirt. It was assumed that Jack and Jill had fallen victim to the demons of the depths inhabiting the well. The townspeople celebrated their victory. A new well, equipped with a pump and covered to prevent the escape of any new demons, was built in a sensible location at normal ground level. They all lived happily ever after- except Jack and Jill of course, who had died. Oh, well.
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"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesman and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do."
- Ralph 'Where's Waldo' Emerson
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like. And I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."
- Bilbo Baggins
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VP Palin Shoots Friend in Face 09/31/10
