The Magic Paintbrush
Liz Miles
Every day, Ho looked after a rich farmer's cattle. He took hay to the field.
The farmer did not pay him much. Ho had only dry bread to eat. One day a very thin, old man came up the lane. He looked hungry. Ho gave his bread to the man.
“Take this.”
“Thank you.” said the man. He gave Ho a gift. It was a golden paintbrush.
Ho made paints from plants, berries and mud.
“What shall I paint?” thought Ho. He began to paint some hay. The hay became real!
This is a magic paintbrush!
The sun was hot. The stream was dry. So Ho painted a blue stream. The stream became real! Now the people and animals had water to drink.
The rich farmer had lots of food to eat. But the children and workers were hungry.
Ho painted lots of food. It became real! Ho painted lots of things for people. They all became real. He painted ... a wheel ... a bucket ... and some clothes.
The rich farmer wanted the magic paintbrush. He put Ho in jail and took the brush. The farmer was greedy. He painted gold. But the gold did not become real.
“Oi, you! The paintbrush does not work for me. Paint me a mountain of gold!” ordered the farmer.
Ho painted the mountain of gold. He painted a blue sea all around it. The gold and the sea became real.
The farmer was angry. “I cannot swim! Why did you paint the sea!” he shouted.
“I will paint a ship for you,” said Ho. The ship became real.
The farmer set off in the ship.
“When I get back, you will paint everything I want. The world will be mine!” he laughed But.
Ho painted a gale. The gale became real. It took the farmer, far, far away.
Ho returned to the farm. He painted things for those who were kind and good to others.
The rich farmer was never seen again.