Once upon a time there was a small town called New York. New York was one of the first towns in America ÃÂ a very big, very new and a very wild country far away from an old continent.
Once upon a time there was a small town called New York. New York was one of the first towns in America a very big, very new and a very wild country far away from an old continent. It was a place where everything was possible and even the most unbelievable histories could happen.
The life in New York was very quiet and boring. People knew each other and there seemed to be nothing that could change the routine of the town until a one night.
Mister Hill Billy was sitting as usual in front of his veranda and was enjoying the smell of his beloved pipe. Dressed in a patched blouse and very worn-out trousers he was resting in his rocking chair.
The toe got out of his striped sock and was enjoying the fresh air. Billy was very busy but at the same time a bit absent-minded, that ÃÂs why he very rarely bothered himself with washing or shaving. He spen most of time with his animals rather then people, so he did not mind his look at all. The night was very silent and tranquil There was no barking, bleating or caterwauling, which you can easily hear around a small town by night. Billy was a very happy man. He run his own small farm out of town and every Saturday he delivered fresh eggs and milk to the town shops. He was not a rich man but as long as he could afford to buy some tobacco for his pipe he did not complaine.
As it has...