It was autumn, and time for the blonde farmer to go over his books. To his puzzlement, he found that his flock of Rhode Island Reds was twice as profitable, in terms of eggs they produced, as was his flock of White Leghorns.
“Look at this, he said to his wife. “I’ve gone over the numbers again and again, and there’s no doubt about it: the Reds are laying twice as many eggs and bringing in twice the money of the Whites. I just don’t understand it.”
“I’ll tell you something else,” said his equally blonde wife, running a finger over the figures in her husband’s spreadsheet. “It looks like the Reds are eating twice as much as the Whites, too. Maybe that’s why they’re producing twice as many eggs.”
“By golly, you’re right,” said the farmer. Stymied, he went to bed that night, making a mental note to call an expert the next day.
He spent the following morning on the phone, calling the best poultry experts all over the country, but none could offer a satisfactory explanation as to why a flock of Rhode Island Reds would eat twice as much or produce twice as many eggs as a flock of White Leghorns.
On the verge of giving up, the farmer realized he had wasted a whole morning on the phone, when he should have been out tending his chickens. He hurried out to the huge hen house, where he ran into Jeb, the young farmhand.
“Get up late this morning?” asked Jeb.
The farmer explained, as he had at least twenty times already that day, about the mystery of the chickens, and how he had sought expert advice, to no avail.
Jeb listened, and when the farmer was done talking, said, “Boss, I think I can tell you why the Reds are eating twice as much and laying twice as many eggs as the Whites.”
The blonde farmer smirked, “Oh, really, Jeb? And why would that be?”
“Well, Boss,” said Jeb, “you own twice as many Reds as Whites.”
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