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. The farmers reached for
each other's throats over the bony back of the frightened cow. Soon,
the audience chose sides and got in on the fight; the members of the
council and the mayor cheered them on.
It was the cow herself who settled the matter. Mooing
frantically, she bolted through the throng of kender, right past the
Bench of Authority, heading toward the open wall. Splaying himself on
his stomach across the right corner of the table, the mayor managed to
get a hand on her collar and jerk her to a stop just inches before the
precipice.
"So," he panted, "you both claim you own her."
"She was mine, first!" both of them howled, hurrying forward to
calm their cow.
Metwinger straightened his robes and sat back down, wheezing
heavily. Watching them fawn over the cow, he was struck with an idea.
"Then you shall both have part of her," he proclaimed, thinking
his decision not only brilliant, but incredibly fair.
The two kender looked at him, puzzled. "You want us to cut her
in half?" Digger finally managed.
"Oh!" the mayor looked startled. "I hadn't thought of that
solution. Hmmm -- well, anyway, what I meant was that you must share
her. You, Digger, will have her on odd days, and you, Wembly, shall
have her on the even ones."
"But her birthday is on an odd day!" protested Wembly.
"And All Cows Day is on an even day!" complained Digger.
"Well, then I'd say that makes you even," said the mayor, with
an apologetic smile at Digger
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