A duke was hunting in the forest with his men-at-arms and servants when he came across a tree.
Upon it, archery targets were painted and smack in the middle of each was an arrow.
"Who is this incredibly fine archer?" cried the duke. "I must find him!"
After continuing through the forest for a few miles he came across a small boy carrying a bow and arrow.
Eventually the boy admitted that it was he who shot the arrows plumb in the center of all the targets.
"You didn't just walk up to the targets and hammer the arrows into the middle, did you?" asked the duke worriedly.
"No my lord. I shot them from a hundred paces. I swear it by all that I hold holy."
"That is truly astonishing," said the duke. "I hereby admit you into my service."
The boy thanked him profusely.
"But I must ask one favor in return," the duke continued.
"You must tell me how you came to be such an outstanding shot."
How'd he get to be such a good shot?
The boy shot the arrow, then painted the circle around it.
How much dirt would be in a hole 6 feet deep and 6 feet wide that has been dug with a square edged shovel?
None.
No matter how big a hole is, it's still a hole: the absence of dirt.
And those of you who said 36 cubic feet are wrong for another reason, too.
You would have needed the length measurement too.
So you don't even know how much air is in the hole.
I drift forever with the current down these long canals they've made.
Tame, yet wild, I run elusive, multitasking to your aid.
Before I came, the world was darker. Colder, sometimes, rougher, true.
But though I might make living easy, I'm good at killing people too.
