I felt silly adding «Brainy» — but there had been a row between Pop and him, and years earlier my best teacher had said, «Never neglect the so-called ‹trivial› roots of an equation,» and had pointed out that two Nobel prizes had derived from «trivial» roots.
«The Number of the Beast» by Robert A. Heinlein
A very short brothers Grimm story, using the translation by Margaret Hunt as basis. Mostly minor edits, removed the moral, and dealt a bit better with the horse. In the original story, he apparently leaves it behind with a broken leg. I can deal with children being cooked or witches pushed into the oven, but leaving a horse with a broken leg behind? Never.
The Nail
A merchant had done good business at the fair. He had sold his wares and lined his money-bags with gold and silver. Then he longed to have the road behind him and be home before nightfall. So he fastened his trunk upon his horse and rode away.
At noon he rested in a town. When he wished to go on, the stable-boy brought out his horse and said,
«A nail is missing, sir, from the shoe on his left hind foot. Shall I fetch the blacksmith?»
«Let it be missing,» answered the merchant. «The shoe will certainly stay on for the six miles I still have to go. I am in a hurry.»
In the afternoon, when he rested once more and had his horse fed, the stable-boy came into the room and said,
«Sir, the shoe is missing from your horse’s left hind foot. Shall I take him to the blacksmith?»
«Let it still be missing,» answered the man. «I have no time for a horseshoe. The horse can very well hold out for the two miles that remain.»
He rode forth, but before long the horse began to limp. It had not limped long before it began to stumble. And it had not stumbled long before it fell and broke its leg.
The merchant was forced to see to the horse, and when there was nothing more to be done, he unfastened the trunk, took it upon his back, and went home on foot. He did not reach home until late at night.
«I had no time for one nail,» he said to himself, «and now I have lost my horse and come home after dark.»