I once heard a tale of a strange far-off land, told to me by a one-legged barber. It goes, as I recall, something like this …

There once was an old farmer called Henry Duck, who had two cows he called Battersea and Brock. These two cows, legend says, are the producers of the best milk in all that land far away. Yet for all their worth there was a problem. For all the people of that land were lactose intolerant, which meant the milk was wasted and simply thrown away. But then Old Henry, as the barber says, had an idea walking home one day.

The milk from his cows he took to his barn and there made it into butter thicker and stronger than most. With this butter he went to one of his fields, and built a playground that very same day.

The playground of butter, complete with swing, climbing frame, and slide, soon became very popular and famous. So famous in fact that one night, unknown to all, a certain northern star came down from her heavenly seat to play in the playground of butter. She enjoyed it so much that she spread the word and soon all the stars knew of it. Many stars came each night to play, to swing and slide and climb. You see, stars are very childish, as it is said.

However, the only star that was not invited, was the one that shone when the rest were sleeping. Old Sun was sad to be left out, yet not deterred, so decided to come down to play in the buttery playground herself.

As her day’s work was at an end, the Sun came down to play in the playground made of butter from her heavenly bed. She went on the slide and then the swing, and to and fro she passed. Higher and higher she swung back and forth, laughing joyously.

But then all of a sudden the swing gave way beneath her. She was thrown right out of the playground. She stood up and brushed herself down. As she turned around, she heard the screams of the stars who had just arrived to play. For there was nothing left, just a shining puddle.