Now we jump forward in time to tell you that Ansel grew up to be a fine strong boy, very poetic and musical. After attending university and studying music (he graduated from university at age seventeen, way ahead of everybody else there) and serving a mission, he became a wandering minstrel. Times were a bit lean and he wandered from town to town and overseas playing piano solos for orchestras every few months and living on pittance. He ate berries and seaweed and made bread from the ground-up seeds of elymus arenarius, a grass which grows by the seaside, and ate scrambled eggs made from quails' eggs.
He wore a hat made of a frying pan (to fry the quails' eggs in) and clothes made of sacks of flour, a sorry sight. His parents had died in a rainstorm when they contracted pneumonia, and that was the tragic end of the parents.
If only he could make some money, he miserabled himself. Then he saw a light ahead of him, and ran to a farmhouse.
To Be Continued
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