The Mice That Ate Iron

Once upon a time, in a land not too far from your bedtime story, there lived a wealthy merchant. He was packing his bags full of goodies and knick-knacks for a journey that would take him far and wide.

"Ahh, but what to do with my valuable iron rod?" he pondered, stroking his chin. "I can't carry it, and it's much too heavy for my suitcase."

His friend popped by, juggling a few apples. "Worry not!" he said, tossing an apple high in the air. "Leave it with me! Safe as houses, I promise!"

So, the merchant left his iron rod with his friend, thanking him with a tip of his hat, and off he went.

Months later, the merchant returned, tired and dusty from his travels, with a suitcase filled with souvenirs and a curiosity about his iron rod.

"Hey there! How's the old rod doing?" he asked his friend, who looked rather guilty. The friend, having sold the rod for a new juggling set, stammered, "Alas! Mice came in—big ones, with teeth like sharks—and ate your iron."

The merchant raised an eyebrow, "Mice eating iron, eh? Must've been some gourmet rodents. Well, these things happen." He winked and left, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The very next day, the merchant visited his friend's house while he was away and invited his friend's young son to the city's fair. They enjoyed cotton candy, rode on the merry-go-round, and had a blast.

Meanwhile, the friend came home to find his son missing. His wife, hands on her hips, said, "Your merchant buddy took our boy to the fair."

The friend ran to the merchant's house, panicked and breathless. The merchant greeted him, twirling an umbrella, "Oh, dreadful thing, old chap. A hawk swooped down at the fair and carried your son away. Shocking, I know!"

"A hawk? Carry a boy?" the friend exclaimed. "That's impossible! Just like... oh."

"Like mice eating my iron rod?" the merchant finished, grinning.

Feeling bamboozled, the friend took the matter to court. The king, after hearing the tale, scratched his royal beard and said, "Well, if you believe mice with a taste for metal, why not a hawk with a flair for dramatics?"

The friend's face turned red as a tomato as he confessed to his lie. The court ordered him to pay the merchant back, teaching him a lesson he'd never forget.

In the town where stories unfold,
Lived a merchant, brave and bold.
An iron rod, his treasure so fine,
He left with a friend, till he'd return in time.

When he came back, to his dismay,
His rod was gone, led astray.
"The mice, they feasted!" his friend did claim,
On the merchant's rod, to avoid the blame.

The merchant smiled, hid his frown,
Then took the young boy to town.
To a bustling fair, full of glee,
He led the boy, then set him free.

Home came the friend, his heart did race,
"Where's my son? Gone without a trace!"
To the merchant he did dash,
Hearing a tale, both wild and brash.

"A hawk," said the merchant with a sigh,
"Took your boy, up to the sky."
"That can't be true!" the friend did cry,
"A hawk can't lift a boy so high!"

"But mice ate iron, or so you've said,"
The merchant responded, not a hair he shed.
The truth was revealed, in court it was told,
The friend's dishonesty, brash and bold.

If mice can dine on metal so strong,
Then hawks lifting boys, can't be wrong.
The friend repented, gave back what he owed,
And from that day, honesty he showed.