Sabir was a little girl who had nothing to do.
She could not collect the eggs, because they had all been eaten. She could not ride the ponies because it wasn't Thursday. She could not write in her diary because she had no arms. She could not get dressed, because she had no clothes. And she could not go to school, because it was Saturday.
But then she had an idea. "I know what I will do," she said to herself. "I will look at the newspaper and find out how many W's there are on each page."
"Where is the newspaper?" she asked her mother.
"I have it," said her mother. "Why do you want it?"
"I want to count how many W's there are on each page."
"There are two hundred and six," said her mother. "I've just counted them."
Poor Sabir! Now it was no use counting the W's because she already knew how many there were on each page.
Then she had another idea. "I know!" she said. "I will find out how many W's there are altogether, by counting the number of pages, and multiplying it by two hundred and six."
"You needn't bother," said her mother. "I have counted the pages already. There is one. One multiplied by two hundred and six is two hundred and six."
Sabir burst out crying.
"Then there is nothing for me to do," she said.
There was nothing for her to do.