Your father went out for kindling at the nearby hill an hour ago. He returned with an injured arm. He claimed he did it trying to get wood. Despite the fact everyone considers you a simpleton, your father decided he has no choice but to send you for wood. Though all you can think about is making your crush, a rich man's daughter, laugh (as she has not laughed, or even smiled since she was 8)

You continue through the hill, picking up large sticks. You walk past an old man sitting at a tree

"Good day, young lad"