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he an n he reen uit

ick tock, tick tock sounded the old glass domed, gilded clock. Tick tock, tick tock. At last the man in the green suit found he had a new story to tell and so anxious was he to tell someone, he rushed out into the street and told his story to the first person he met.
ow this person happened to be a collector of stories, a storyteller. “Can I have your story” said the story teller. “Of cause you can, I have no use of it, maybe one day” said the man in the green suit. The Storyteller thanked the man in the green suit and the next day he told his stories to a small crowd sitting under the tree on the village green. In his telling he included the story that had been given to him by the man in the green suit.
n this small crowd were two other people who collected and told stories. And the next day in front of larger crowds, there were now three storytellers in three different parts of the country telling the same story first told by the man in the green suit. Each crowd had in it four people who were also collectors and tellers of stories. And the next day. Well you’ve guessed.
nd so it went on and on with more and more people hearing and telling the same story first told by the man in the green suit. Until, many many, years later all the people in the country had heard the story, first told...., by the man in the green suit.
hat is all except, it would seem..., the man in the green suit. For as I have said, it was many years and as we well know, as the years pass our memories can tend to fade. And this was true of the man in the green suit. So that, on hearing the story, he found he had a new story to tell and so anxious was he to tell someone, he rushed out into the street and told his story to the first person he met.
ow this person happened to be a collector of stories, a storyteller.... “Can I have your story” said the story teller. “Of cause you can, I have no use of it, maybe one day” said the man in the green suite. The Storyteller thanked the man in the green suite and the next day he told his stories to a small crowd sitting, as they always did, under the old tree on the village green. In his telling he included the story that had been given to him by the man in the green suite.
n this small crowd were two other people who collected and told stories. And the next day in front of larger crowds, there were now three storytellers in three different parts of the country telling the same story first told by the man in the green suit.
Each crowd had in it four people who were also collectors and tellers of stories. And the next day. Well, again you’ve guessed.
nd so it went on and on and on with more and more people hearing and telling the same story first told by the man in the green suit. Until many, many, many years later all the people in the country had heard the story, first told...., by the man in the green suit.
hat is all except, it would seem..., the man in the green suit. For as I have said, it was many, many years and as we well know, as the years pass our memories can tend to fade, if not fail us altogether. And this was true of the man in the green suit. So that, on hearing the story, so shocked was he to hear that he was dead he didn’t tell another living soul. Tick tock, tick tock, tick...... The clock stopped.