a story writing on a magic bag
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The Magic Bag
Once upon a time, a man found a bag, and he knew at once this bag was magical.
"What good fortune!" he exclaimed, for he could tell the bag had special powers. That bag could swallow anything its owner asked it to swallow.
One day, the man visited a monastery, and he asked an old monk how he could make sure he would get to heaven.
This monk was very vain. "You can only get to heaven through me," the monk answered.
"Is there no other way?" the man asked.
"No," the monk said proudly. "I am your only route to heaven."
"Well, then," the man said, "since you have so much power, you will not mind if I tell my bag to swallow you."
"Not at all," said the monk, "though that is proof that you are an uneducated, foolish fellow. I will do my best to save your soul."
The man smiled and said, "Swallow the monk," and a moment later the old monk was inside the magic bag.
The man traveled through the country, and every time he met a monk, he heard the same words. "There is only one way to heaven," they said, "and that is through me."
"But I am your equal," the man would say, and the monks would frown and shake their heads. "You are a foolish, uneducated fellow, and you must listen to the monks if you hope to get to heaven one day."
The man did not like this idea, and so, one by one, he said the words, "Swallow the monk," and one by one the magic bag swallowed the monks.
Soon the man began to command the bag to swallow everyone he met who was unpleasant. His bag swallowed liars and cheats and swindlers and everyone who seemed unkind.
One day, as he walked through the market square in Fez, a swarm of hungry devils attacked him. "Bring back the bad!" the devils cried as they buzzed around the man's head.
The man swatted at the devils, and at last he cried, "Swallow the devils," and his magic bag swallowed up every one.
But all these devils were difficult to digest; the magical bag bulged and shimmied and shook. The man struggled to carry the unruly bag, but at last he decided he would take it to the blacksmith and ask him to hammer it flat again.
"How much will it cost to hammer this bag thin as a knife blade?" he asked the blacksmith.
The smith thought awhile and answered, "Ten silver pieces."
"Agreed," said the man, and he left his bag in the smith's shop.
All that night the blacksmith hammered, harder and harder, faster and faster. But no matter how he struggled, he could not hammer that bag flat. Those devils were clever fellows. The moment one was flat, he would inhale a deep draught of air and would blow himself up to full size again.
When the man returned to the shop, the blacksmith shook his head. "This is a devil of a bag," the blacksmith said. "I cannot hammer it flat." Sure enough, the man saw that his bag was still bloated and bumpy.
"As a matter of fact," the man said, "that bag is full of devils," but he gave the smith some coins for his troubles. Then he opened the bag and let all the devils stream out. Away they flew to disturb other people.
The man went on with his life, avoiding unpleasant things by having his magic bag swallow them.
At long last he grew old, and he knew he would soon die. He visited a hermit who lived alone in the mountains. He thought he might give his magic bag to the hermit, for the man had no friends or family.
When the old man offered the hermit his bag, the hermit shook his head. "Life is full of the unpleasant and the pleasant," the hermit said, "and if you do not experience both, you are not truly alive, and you may not go to heaven or hell."
"Don't most people hope to avoid the unpleasant?" the old man asked.
"They do," the hermit said sadly.
That night, the old man died peacefully in the hermit's quiet hut. He still clutched the magic bag, and a moment later he was at the gates of hell, his bag in hand.
"Why am I here?" he asked the gatekeeper. "I took evil out of the world."
"You were drawn to us," the gatekeeper said, "because you spent so much time concentrating on the bad things in the world. Come in."
The old man shook his head and said to the bag, "Swallow all this!" and a moment later hell was gone; it was all in that bag.
Answer:
Once upon a time, a man found a bag, and he knew at once this bag was magical.
"What good fortune!" he exclaimed, for he could tell the bag had special powers. That bag could swallow anything its owner asked it to swallow.
One day, the man visited a monastery, and he asked an old monk how he could make sure he would get to heaven.
This monk was very vain. "You can only get to heaven through me," the monk answered.
"Is there no other way?" the man asked.
"No," the monk said proudly. "I am your only route to heaven."
"Well, then," the man said, "since you have so much power, you will not mind if I tell my bag to swallow you."
"Not at all," said the monk, "though that is proof that you are an uneducated, foolish fellow. I will do my best to save your soul."
The man smiled and said, "Swallow the monk," and a moment later the old monk was inside the magic bag.
The man traveled through the country, and every time he met a monk, he heard the same words. "There is only one way to heaven," they said, "and that is through me."
"But I am your equal," the man would say, and the monks would frown and shake their heads. "You are a foolish, uneducated fellow, and you must listen to the monks if you hope to get to heaven one day."
The man did not like this idea, and so, one by one, he said the words, "Swallow the monk," and one by one the magic bag swallowed the monks.
Soon the man began to command the bag to swallow everyone he met who was unpleasant. His bag swallowed liars and cheats and swindlers and everyone who seemed unkind.
One day, as he walked through the market square in Fez, a swarm of hungry devils attacked him. "Bring back the bad!" the devils cried as they buzzed around the man's head.
The man swatted at the devils, and at last he cried, "Swallow the devils," and his magic bag swallowed up every one.
But all these devils were difficult to digest; the magical bag bulged and shimmied and shook. The man struggled to carry the unruly bag, but at last he decided he would take it to the blacksmith and ask him to hammer it flat again.
"How much will it cost to hammer this bag thin as a knife blade?" he asked the blacksmith.
The smith thought awhile and answered, "Ten silver pieces."
"Agreed," said the man, and he left his bag in the smith's shop.
All that night the blacksmith hammered, harder and harder, faster and faster. But no matter how he struggled, he could not hammer that bag flat. Those devils were clever fellows. The moment one was flat, he would inhale a deep draught of air and would blow himself up to full size again.
When the man returned to the shop, the blacksmith shook his head. "This is a devil of a bag," the blacksmith said. "I cannot hammer it flat." Sure enough, the man saw that his bag was still bloated and bumpy.
"As a matter of fact," the man said, "that bag is full of devils," but he gave the smith some coins for his troubles. Then he opened the bag and let all the devils stream out. Away they flew to disturb other people.
The man went on with his life, avoiding unpleasant things by having his magic bag swallow them.
At long last he grew old, and he knew he would soon die. He visited a hermit who lived alone in the mountains. He thought he might give his magic bag to the hermit, for the man had no friends or family.
When the old man offered the hermit his bag, the hermit shook his head. "Life is full of the unpleasant and the pleasant," the hermit said, "and if you do not experience both, you are not truly alive, and you may not go to heaven or hell."
"Don't most people hope to avoid the unpleasant?" the old man asked.
"They do," the hermit said sadly.
That night, the old man died peacefully in the hermit's quiet hut. He still clutched the magic bag, and a moment later he was at the gates of hell, his bag in hand.
"Why am I here?" he asked the gatekeeper. "I took evil out of the world."
"You were drawn to us," the gatekeeper said, "because you spent so much time concentrating on the bad things in the world. Come in."
The old m