Back up in the mountains, so far away it would take you a week to get there from here, lived a beaver named Billy Bob. Forget everything you know about Beavers because Billy Bob broke the mold. He was different than all the other beavers who lived in the area. Most of the other beavers were busy cutting trees all year long to make their dams and to gather firewood for their stoves for the long winter ahead.
    Not Billy Bob. He spent most of his summer lying in the shade reading poetry and dreaming of cold winter months when he wouldn't be so uncomfortably hot.
    Well, there they were, the cool months of late autumn, and now Billy Bob was regretting the time he spent dreaming.
    "Hey, Louis," Billy Bob said early one chilly morning to his neighbor. "Do ya'll suppose I could borrow a couple sticks of firewood this morning. My stove is empty and my house is plenty chilly."
    "Land sakes, Billy Bob!" his neighbor said. "This is nothing. You wait till winter gets here and then you'll know all about the cold. What are you doing over here trying to beg some firewood when you should have been out there all summer long gathering wood in the forest like the rest of us!"
    "Does that mean you're not going to give me any firewood?" Billy Bob asked.
    "Oh, for piety's sake! Here, take a couple sticks. But don't come back here begging any more, Billy Bob. I swear, you're the laziest beaver in the world. You'd better take my advice and get going on your wood gathering. The cold weather is coming, my friend, and you can't depend on your neighbors all winter long."
    Especially, Billy Bob thought, if he has to listen to a lecture each time he wants some firewood.
    It was a cool autumn morning and the heat coming his stove, after he got the fire going, felt marvelous. And Billy Bob knew full well that he should have gotten busy and gathered some firewood. Instead, there was this book that was almost calling his name and by the time he finishing reading it, it was much too late to do much of anything. The next morning, Billy Bob stopped at his neighbor's again.
    "Don't tell me," Louis said, "you're back for more firewood. Don't you remember what I told you yesterday? What did you do all day long? Tarnation, boy! When are you going to learn?"
    Billy Bob had to think for something fast. That's exactly why he was here but he had a pretty good idea what the answer was going to be and he didn't want to hear that.
    "Now don't get yourself in a lather, Louis," Billy Bob said. "Ah come here for a different reason. You see, while ah was out gathering firewood yesterday, ah come across a most peculiar fellow. He was doing the same thing but this little ol' boy had his self a magic ax. Ya'll know anything about a magic ax, Louis?"
    Louis looked at his neighbor with a suspicious eye and said, "Now this had better not be another one of your stories, Billy Bob."
    "Make of it what you wish," Billy Bob said, knowing that it was all a huge, elegant fib, "but we got to talking and boasting and bragging and ah made a little wager with him. This little ol' boy bet his magic ax that ah couldn't gather more firewood in a day than he could. What do you think of that?"
    "What are you getting at?"
    "Well, it's pretty clear," Billy Bob continued. "There's only one of him and there's a bunch of us neighbors, right? We all go in together and stack the wood over at my place. If ah win, we all win, and you know how much easier it would be next year to get firewood with a magic ax."
    "Say," Louis said, "that's quite an idea. Yes sir, quite an idea you've got there, Billy Bob."
    "Now, don't go getting all excited about it," Billy Bob said. "There's a chance, just an outside chance that this strange little fella might get more firewood than we can. After all, he's got his self a magic ax."
    "You leave that up to me," Louis said. "I'm a real beaver. When the first frost comes, by golly, I work even harder. I'll round up the neighbors and we'll get going on this, pronto! After we win the magic ax, we'll get so much firewood we can give it away for free!"
    And so, Billy Bob when back home and found another book of poetry to read while Louis and his neighbors stacked piles and piles of wood right outside his door. He almost felt guilty about the whole thing until he remembered that the rest of the beavers loved to work like, well, beavers. This gave them something to do.
    Finally, around nightfall, Louis knocked at his door.
    "That's it, Billy Bob," he said. "We've got a huge stack of firewood right outside your door and, by golly, I don't think that fella could get more than we have. What do you think?"
    Billy Bob stepped out of his beaver den to look at the pile of firewood. It was quite a stack.
    "Now, that's really something," he said. "I don't see how that fella's gonna beat that in a million years, Louis. But I'll catch up with him tonight and we'll settle this bet. You best scoot on home now."
    Billy Bob took a couple sticks of firewood into his den and put them in his woodstove. He wanted to check them for quality. They burned quite nicely. He settled back with his book again, propped his feet up a table and read until the wee hours of the morning.
    Early the next day, Louis pounded on the door demanding to know how the wager came out.
    "Well, good morning, Louis," Billy Bob said.
    "Do you have it?" Louis asked. "Did you win the magic ax?"
    "Oh, that's right. Ah haven't told you, have ah. That peculiar little fella came 'round last night and we measured our wood piles and talked about our bet and guess what, his wood pile was just an inch taller than this one. Sorry about that, Louis. We lost the bet."
    "What?!" Louis cried.
    "Hey now, that's the way it goes sometimes. You can't always win, can you? And since this is all extra wood, I suppose, we might as well leave it here, don't you think? You be sure and thank the other neighbors, ya hear? And tell 'em they all did a good job, too."
    Billy Bob settled back down with his book and looked forward to a warm, snug winter with plenty of firewood. Louis, his neighbor, spent the whole winter dreaming about that magic ax.