Once upon a time, far, far away, there lived a farmer with two donkey carts. Though he ran a farm and most of his income was brought in from the crops he raised, he also made a bit of extra money by offering rides to the locals who needed to go places where it would be inconvenient to travel on foot. He grew to like the extra money, and soon (even though the vegetables and wheat and fruit he raised brought in more revenue) he was touting his donkey carts as the best idea he'd ever had. After all, his two donkeys were trained to go anywhere on their own and return home in a timely fashion. All the farmer had to do was help the ladies onto their seats and take a few coins from the gentlemen and off they would go.

One day, one of the man's farmhands said that one donkey was suffering. The farmer rushed into the stable and found the donkey lying on the ground, panting heavily. "He must be sick," said the farmhand.

"Nonsense," said the farmer. "He's just a bit tired. We shall let him rest and use the other donkey today. We haven't pushed either donkey to its limits. Certainly, both are fat enough to betray a life of relative leisure. I shall send the second donkey on all of today's errands."

And it was so. While the first donkey recuperated, the second donkey did the work of two. It carried three young ladies to visit their elderly aunt. It hauled a load of seeds for a neighboring farmer. It carried a family of five down to the waterfront to catch a ship.

After the third trip, however, the donkey arrived back at the farm, took a few sips of water from the trough, and fell onto its side, dead.

"Oh, no!" said the farmhand. "The donkey was worked to death!"

"Don't be ridiculous," said the farmer. "Obviously, this donkey was ready to die. He served his purpose well. Besides, the sick donkey is now better!"

The farmhand cast a wary eye at the 'better' donkey, who continued to lay on its side, panting. "You're certain, sir?" he asked.

"Absolutely," said the farmer. "This donkey just needs a little encouragement. What I want you to do is fetch a stick and prod the donkey in the behind until he stands up. When he is standing, hitch him to the cart. When the cart is hitched, use the stick to whack the donkey on the behind, leading him along the path to wherever our customers need to go."

"But sir," said the farmhand, "Isn't that a bit impractical? The reason for using the donkey in the first place was that he knew the paths by heart, and could carry people places it was too far to walk. If I must walk behind the donkey, hitting it with a stick, does it not defeat the purpose?"

"Not at all!" The farmer laughed, ruffling the hair on the farmhand's head. "Yes, it was slightly more convenient to have an donkey that could follow its own path and return home, but it makes no difference to our customers whether the donkey goes on its own or if there is a driver."

And so the farmhand did what the farmer suggested. He prodded the poor donkey until it stood, and then hitched it to the cart. He loaded the passengers onto the cart, and swatted the donkey on the behind all the way into the farthest village in the fiefdom, and then all the way back.

Upon his return, the farmhand said, "I'm afraid there's a problem. The donkey, not knowing the path by heart anymore, caught his hoof in a crag, and is now lame on one side."

"That's fine," said the farmer. "An donkey has four legs, while a man only has two! Certainly you see the value in having a three-legged donkey take passengers where they need to go, rather than having them walk on their own two legs."

"But there is another farmer just down the lane with a horse and buggy," said the farmhand. "If we tell people to use his services for a few days, our donkey can recover, and then we'll avoid future mishap."

"Commerce waits for no man," said the farmer. "Now, there is a sailor who needs to get to the pier."

And so the farmhand went, swatting and walking, the donkey limping his way down the path. When they returned, several hours later than the trip usually took, the farmhand had more bad news to report.

"With his limp, the donkey accidentally fell into a vat of molasses, and now he cannot see," said the farmhand. "I had to prod him with the stick to take a step, and then run in front of him to be sure he stayed on the path."

"That is terrible news," said the farmer, "For the princess needs to get to a ball tonight. She needs the services of our donkey cart."

"But the horse and buggy haven't been used all day," said the farmhand, "I have been toiling all day long swatting an donkey on the behind, when I could have been earning more money for you working in the field."

"I will not send a paying customer to a competitor," said the farmer. "The princess asked for our donkey, and she shall get our donkey."

The farmhand started to protest, but it was too late. The princess appeared, wearing all her finery, anxious to be carried to the ball.

"Help the princess into the cart," said the farmer.

"But," said the farmhand.

"Yes," said the farmer. "Hit the donkey in the butt, and he shall carry the princess where she needs to go. Carrying her to the ball shall place our farm in the highest regard, and then we shall be able to purchase two more donkeys, and retire this one to pasture!"

"But you only receive three copper pieces per ride," said the farmhand. "This trip shall not buy you two more donkeys. It shall not buy you one more donkey. It would not even cover the cost of feeding one donkey."

"You always look on the dark side of things," said the farmer. "Go on. We cannot keep the princess waiting."

The farmhand, not knowing anything but servitude, dutifully took up his stick and prodded and whacked the donkey, running ahead with every step to lead the poor, blind creature along the path. The sun slowly set as the princess was carried away, inch by inch, to the end of the property.

When the three of them - donkey, farmhand and princess - reached the furthest gate of the property, the donkey fell over, dead. The cart tipped and crushed the princess' head and she too departed the world of the living. The farmhand tried to catch the princess as she fell, but managed to lose three fingers in the spokes of the cart wheel.

Suffering, bedraggled, and thoroughly discouraged, the farmhand wrapped his destroyed appendage in a piece of cloth ripped from the princess' ball gown and hobbled his way to the farmer.

"You see?" he said. "The donkey could not make one more trip! I warned you of the folly of this plan!"

"My plan was flawless," said the farmer. "You must have done something wrong. But I am a generous man, and I shall allow you to go back into the field and toil for your pay."

"But my hand is ruined," said the farmhand, holding up the bloody mass wrapped in fine silk.

"Nobody ever said a day's pay was easy to earn," said the farmer, walking towards his house, where a fine meal and the company of his wife and children awaited him.

The moral of this story? If you find yourself prodding something broken for little or no reason when there is a perfectly acceptable alternative just down the road, you may very well be the one being prodded; not on the ass, but by one.