"Um, sure thing, Mister. A story huh? Well, ain't much ta tell. We're farmers an its been hard, too hard ta get by ya know? Me Da, his names William, he's whatcha call a sharecropper, meanin he works fer another farmer near Parts. Me an me three sisters we work too, dun get any schoolin, but that's okay on account I dun wanna go ta no school!" Elliah folds his bony little arms in front of himself, defiantly.
"William, a fine name - my middle and my son's middle as well. Are you Elliah William, perchance? The bard settles on the narrow wagon's bench, his legs entirely too long for the space allowed. "Schooling can take many forms, Elliah. Don't be so quick to dismiss it. Farmers need to write and count, and higher numbers are useful. They give you an advantage over others who feel that they don't want to go to school either. You can learn in many ways, not just sitting in a schoolroom - for example, here is a bushel of barely. I want to know how many handfuls I have for spreading, so I will take my hand and stack it up and down so I know how many of my hands tall the sack is, then across, then estimate how many handfuls are in the sack . How would you do the same?"
Elliah squints at Andrew suspiciously, "I ain't dumb mister..that's easy..we take the bag ta Parts scale, he's got these stones ya balance yer grain gainst. Everybody's knowin proper weights fer grain."
"And if the scale is for some reason unavailable? If you don't have access to one, or think perhaps you're being cheated and need another way to estimate? I'm not trying to change your mind, Elliah. Only to point out that a little advantage can make a big difference." As the driver gives the mare a light slap with the reins, the bard lays a leg over the jockey box and almost to the tongue. "Speaking of knowledge, I could use quite a bit. What do you know of growing barley, assuming the soil is up to the task?"
"Maybe.." Elliah offers reluctantly some of his usual stubborness fading, "Lookee here, I still dun want no schoolin. As fer that barley growin, we've only ever grown wheat o corn in these parts, so I dunno. I reckon it would, barley's a grass like, nearly a weed." He scratches his head, dislodging a few bits of loose dirt before continuing" Ask Farmer Part, he's had a hand in growin most everythin this side of the Hold." Elliah points at a familiar farmstead as they crest a rise, horses straining only slightly at the incline. "We're nearly there..this is where I get off, Mister. Thanks fer the food!" With that, Elliah leaps nimbly to the road with a wave, bare feet and all and quickly disapears into the tall grass off the road.