Jill on the Hill

 Today we honour the number 17. And our wizarding skills in creating paragraphs using only that number:

 

   Jack and Jill went up the hill

   To fetch a pail of water;

   Jack fell down and

  

   broke his crown,

   and Jill came tumbling after.

   Up Jack got, and home did trot,

   As fast

 

   as he could caper,

   To old Dame Dob, who patched his nob

   With vinegar and brown paper.

  

Okay, first of all, what wise-acre put the silly well at the TOP of a hill?

Wouldn’t the oh-so-diligent diggers just have to dig that much further down to get to water?

And what about the people who have to trundle up and down bearing easily-spilled pails of liquid?

Some things to think about. (Oops. NOT a 17!) Ahem…

Jack and his twin sister, Jill, were tasked with fetching their mother a pail of fresh water.

A simple enough job, surely? All it required was taking the bucket, walking UP to the well…

Lowering the well’s pail into the dark water far, far, far below. (Okay, fine. Maybe I’m exaggerating.)

Then bringing it up again, brimming with clear, cold water and pouring said water into their vessel.

Hanging the well bucket neatly on its hook (because woe betide anyone who fails to do so).

Then, working together, lifting their bucket between them and reversing the whole trip back to the house.

What could possibly go wrong? Apart from the whole ‘cooperation thing’—a nearly impossible task for many siblings.

Followed by the necessity of having to walk DOWNHILL with said brimming bucket. (Can anyone say ‘disaster’?)

Well, as you’d expect, the aforementioned ‘disaster’ did, indeed occur. With both siblings falling and/or tumbling.

Jack got the worst of it, however, breaking his ‘crown’—which I’m assuming is his poor head.

I should point out that said ‘break’ wasn’t serious enough to warrant medical intervention and/or expensive hospitalization.

And that he was able to ‘caper’ quickly in the direction of Old Dame Dob’s soothing hands.

But I also want to call attention to the forgotten-ness of his sweet (I’m assuming) sister, Jill.

Didn’t she tumble also? And (I’m just thinking out loud) have to carry the water by herself?

Admittedly, the bucket probably wasn’t as full as it had been, considering the whole ‘cart-wheeling’ incident.

But still, Jill was left to carry on (I mean this literally) by her own small self.

Kudos to Jill. Well done! May your tribe increase. You’re definitely our kind of folks, sweet girl!

I think a rewrite of the poem is in order—one more reflective of the current situation…

 

Jill and Jack were coming back

Together with their water,

Cause some dumbbell had dug the well,

 

Atop the hill (the rotter!)

Both fell down, but Jack, the clown,

Garnished all the men-tion,

 

Jill, as asked; she did the task,

While Jack scarfed the at-ten-tion.

Today’s post is a writing challenge. Each month one of the participating bloggers pick a number between 12 and 50. All bloggers are then challenged to write using that exact number of words in their post either once or multiple times. 
This month’s word count number is: 17
It was chosen by: Mimi at Messymimi’s Meanderings   
 
Check out the others to see how they responded to the challenge!   
BakingIn ATornado
Messymimi’sMeanderings