Apr 30, 2013 1:07 AM

The Tax Collector’s Bargain In a time not so long ago the tax collector would make his yearly round of the King’s villages, staying a while in each. During every visit he promised the villagers’ riches and happiness if they would but pay their taxes. And the people, well, the people hoped that he would make their lives better. But, sadly, he always made trouble. The villagers made money but then the tax collector would arrive and take more than his due. “There’s no outwitting him,” the people complained again during his latest visit. “He always takes more than we can afford to pay.” “I can outwit the tax collector,” a clever farmer replied one day, tired of hearing such talk. “No one can do the impossible,” some villagers cautioned him. But others laughed behind his back. “He’ll learn his lesson,” they said. Though many wished that someone would do just that and outwit the tax collector. The next year the tax collector arrived in the little village, as usual, and, on one very cold spring day, finally made his way to the boastful farmer’s door, demanding loudly, “This year I must have half of your fields production, after all the king needs to feed his soldiers.” “Fair enough,” the farmer answered confidently, “Half of my fields” production shall be yours. Everything that grows above the ground will be reserved for you while all that lies beneath will remain mine.” “Agreed,” said the tax collector quickly and with a smirk. “I will return come harvest time to collect the king’s levy,” and, after writing down their pact, the two shook on their bargain. Come harvest time the tax collector returned to the village and began to collect levies in the name of the crown. In good time his collection wagons were filled to overflowing but he kept on and, eventually, he ended up once again at the home of the clever farmer. Rapping loudly on the door he exclaimed, “Come, come my dear man it is time to complete our agreement. All that you have grown is taxed in the name of the king.” “Yes, yes good sir,” the clever farmer agreed as he opened his door and led the tax collector to the barn where he stored his crops. Pulling open the heavy barn doors the two marched inside and the tax collector began to salivate for the barn was fulled to overflowing with turnips. “Here you go,” the clever farmer said walking through to the back of his barn and pointing towards stacks and bales of turnip leaves. “What has been grown above ground is yours to the penny.” “Unfair,” screamed the tax collector. “We made a bargain,” the clever farmer said producing their written agreement. And the tax collector was forced to accept the withering turnip leaves as payment in full. “I won’t be fooled again,” the tax collector cried, “Next year I demand everything that grows beneath the ground of your fields.” And with that final threat he marched angrily away. “That will be fine by me,” the farmer said after the tax collector fell out of earshot, “For next year I plan to grow wheat.” “You see,” the clever farmer told the villagers, “You can outwit the tax collector if you are wise, if you are patient and if you think ahead.”