Far back in the magical fantastical land of fairytales and merry mischief, there once lived a very lonely dragon with scales so blue, they put the ocean to shame. She lived high upon a hill covered toe to ear in violets and daisies, buttercups and dandelions, and funny little flowers that would sing Christmas carols to you no matter what time of the year it was. She was a nice dragon once you got to know her, but no one would bother. The funny farmers who lived in the valley below only knew her by the tears she cried and the crops she ruined by doing so. She would cry a few tears bigger than golf balls on a good day, and flood the entire valley on a not-so-good one. It was rather unpleasant.

Well, the farmers in the valley wanted her to stop crying but they didn't know how to go about doing so, so they sought out our old friend Mr. Josephine for some guidance. "How do ya stop a blue dragon from bein' blue?" they would ask him.

Joe thought about this for two moments past three minutes, and then suggested, "Try giving her roses." The farmers did just this. They sent four brave little boys with a dozen little roses up the hill to meet the dragon. However, that sad dragon lass sent those boys back down the hill the second she saw them. What does a dragon living on a hill covered in flowers need with a dozen more?

So the farmers asked the storyteller a second time, "How do ya stop a dragon that's cryin raindrops from cryin?"

Our friend the storyteller thought about this for three moments past two minutes and then made another suggestion. "Try giving her chocolates," he said. So the farmers did just as they were told. They sent five bold little girls with a big box of chocolates up the hill. However, this turned out to be a very bad idea. The little girls got quite hungry on their trek up the hill and ended up eating all the candy they had intended for their gift.

By this time the farmers were very upset and their crops were soaked in the dragon's tears. So they asked the storyteller one last time, "How do ya make blue dragon stop bein' so blue?"

Well Joe was all out of ideas so he decided to go and speak to the sad dragon lass himself and moseyed on up to see her. "Good day to you an' how do you do?" he said as he stood at her feet.

"How does you think I does?" she questioned, a blubbering and a boohooing all about. She was making the flowers on the hill wish they were able to grow on the clouds as opposed to dirt with the way she was sobbing.

Mr. Josephine stood for a short stretch of time just looking at her and trying to decide on just the right words to say. "A bit azure with a little bit of periwinkle thrown into the mix. How do you do that anyway? Do you take a paintbrush and dip it into the sky each day to make your scales that pretty of a color?" he questioned, his voice laced with charm and a pinch of nonchalance.

This confused the dragon so she just simply asked him, "Leave me here in peace. I does not want you here."

Joe was stubborn though and choose not to budge one bit so instead he said, "I apologize Miss but I am not able to leave your presence as of yet. I still haven't asked you want I came here to ask you about."

The dragon's tears started to fall a little slower as she waited for him to ask his question. "Go ahead and ask your question, Mr. Strange Little Man."

So Joe rolled up his sleeves and told her a dinky little riddle. "How is it that a beggar's brother died, but the man who died had no brother?"

"Because the beggar was a fish?" the dragon guessed, her tears slowing down to an almost complete stop.

Joe threw his head back and laughed. "No, the beggar was his sister (though who knows, maybe she looked like a fish). Here's a simpler question. If a man is eight feet away from a door and with each move he makes, he advances half the distance to the door, how many moves will it take to reach the door?"

The dragon looked at him, completely confused as to what he was saying, for a short time and then inquired, "But how does you ever reach a door if you only move half the distance closer to it? No matter how close you does get, you will always have half the distance to go."

"Exactly!" Josephine yelled, his smile spread out about a mile. "Here's another question then. If a man tried to carry my burden, he would surely break his back. I am not rich but where're I go, I leave silver in my track. What am I?"

"I does not know."

"A snail my dear. I am a snail," the storyteller chuckled a bit and then sat on the grass most comfortably.

This upset the dragon considerably though, and so she began to cry once again. "But you are not a snail. You are just a silly little man with silly questions. How can you be a snail if you are a man? Please do not confuse me so"

Well Mr. Josephine was startled quite a good a bit and quickly fixed his err, "By being very careful of course. How about this silly man ask one more silly question and then no more? I shall leave you alone then if you wish it so." Mammy was calm again and nodded her head for him to continue his silly bout of riddles. "What is it whose mother is a cloud, whose father is the wind, the cool stream is its son, the fruit of the land is its daughter, the rainbow is its bed, the earth is its final resting place, and it is the torment of man?"

In two shakes of a lamb's tail, Mammy gave him the answer. "Why it's the rain of course. Why do you ask that question?"

Mr. Josephine looked up at Mammy and told her, "Because the farmers in the valley have been getting way too much rain coming from around these parts and they want to know what's the matter. Why do you cry, dragon lass?"

"Because I have no boots, and with no boots my feet get cold. I does not like having cold feet; they upset me greatly," she stated as she sniveled and whimpered a good bit and hung her head down low. "Plus I does not get alot of company up on this hill. It does get really lonely here."

"Why don't you go to the Boot Store to get a pair of boots?"

The dragon shook her magnificent head. "Because I does not fit inside the doorway, sir. It is too itsy-bitsy for me."

At that, Joe took off his own two boots and gave them the dragon lass, and with a bit of luck, they managed to fit on her two dragon feet on her hind legs (she didn't want them on her front feet of course because she uses them like you and I have hands and we don't put boots on our hands). "There you go. Now your feet won't get cold."

Sweet goodness, he made her so happy that her scales turned from indigo to gold in a matter of two half-seconds. She jumped up and flew a few laps around the hill. "I does thank you Mr. Strange Little Man. You have made me not so lonely now."

"Your very welcome dragon lass," Mr. Josephine said with a wink a bow. "But you never answered my first question."

The dragon turned her head to the side just a tad puzzled. "And what was that?"

"How do you do?"

She flipped her golden head back and let out a laugh. "Well done and sunny side up!" she shouted gleefully, not making even a bit of sense.

With that, Joe walked down the hill in quite the happy daze. The farmers cheered for their boot-less, sock-less helper and praised his wisdom. The storyteller humbly hid his head and said, "If I'm the one you come to for wise wordings and wise doings, then you lot must be in a bad sort of shape." They weren't too thrilled about him saying that but the nonetheless and never mattering, it was a good day to be had . . . for all except the storyteller's feet of course

As he lay down his head that night, wiping away all of the dandelions and violets that had somehow found a way into his hair, he remembered that he had given his only pair of boots away and didn't have anything to trade for a new set. He laughed and mumbled and grumbled and grove until he slept away all his problems, bootless and all.