One day, Anansi was very hungry. He had no food in his house, and his belly rumbled like thunder. So he decided to go visit his good friend, Brother Tiger, who was known to have the biggest, juiciest yam hills in all of Jamaica.

When Anansi arrived, Brother Tiger was out in his field, admiring his plump yams. "Morning, Brother Tiger!" Anansi called out, putting on his sweetest smile. "My, my, those yams are looking mighty fine! You must be a master farmer!"

Brother Tiger, flattered, puffed out his chest. "Indeed, Anansi! These are the best yams around. I've worked hard on them."

"I can see that, my friend, I can see that," Anansi said, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. "But tell me, Brother Tiger, how do you manage to get them so big and sweet? What's your secret?"

Brother Tiger, not one to keep secrets when complimented, leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, Anansi, it's all about the 'little bit' of magic. Every morning, I go out to the yam hills and I sing to them. I sing, 'Grow, little yams, grow! Grow big and strong, so Tiger can eat you all day long!'"

Anansi listened intently, nodding his head. "Fascinating, Brother Tiger, fascinating! So, you sing to them, eh? What a wonderful idea!"

He stayed a little longer, chatting with Brother Tiger, but his mind was already plotting. He excused himself soon after, claiming he had urgent business elsewhere.

The very next morning, before the sun had even fully risen, Anansi crept back to Brother Tiger's yam field. He saw Brother Tiger fast asleep in his hammock, snoring loudly. This was his chance!

Anansi went to the biggest yam hill and began to sing, imitating Brother Tiger's voice. "Grow, little yams, grow! Grow big and strong, so Anansi can eat you all day long!" He sang it over and over, expecting the yams to instantly pop out of the ground, ready for him to feast.

But nothing happened. The yams stayed stubbornly in the ground. Anansi grew impatient. He sang louder, then even louder, but the yams remained buried.

Suddenly, he heard a growl. Brother Tiger had woken up and was standing right behind him, his eyes narrowed. "Anansi! What are you doing in my yam field, singing to my yams?"

Anansi jumped, startled. He tried to stammer an excuse. "Why, Brother Tiger, I was just admiring your fine yams! And I heard you singing yesterday, so I thought I'd try to help them grow even bigger for you!"

Brother Tiger looked at Anansi with suspicion. He knew Anansi was a trickster. He picked up a big stick. "Anansi, you trying to tief my yams! I know your ways!"

Anansi, seeing the stick and the anger in Brother Tiger's eyes, knew he was in trouble. He didn't wait for Brother Tiger to swing. He took off running, as fast as his eight legs could carry him, with Brother Tiger hot on his heels.

Anansi learned a valuable lesson that day: you can't trick honest hard work with a few copied words. And to this day, when you see Anansi scurrying away quickly, some say he's still remembering that close call with Brother Tiger and his yam hills.