A Boy, stung by a Nettle, ran home crying, to get his mother to blow on the hurt and kiss it.
"Son," said the Boy's mother, when she had comforted him, "the next time you come near a Nettle, grasp it firmly, and it will be as soft as silk."
The end
A Boy, stung by a Nettle, ran home crying, to get his mother to blow on the hurt and kiss it.
"Son," said the Boy's mother, when she had comforted him, "the next time you come near a Nettle, grasp it firmly, and it will be as soft as silk."
The end