In the old days, when an inhabitant of Dordrecht wished to import meat from outside the city, he had to pay a tax. However, most people tried every trick in the book to avoid this.

One morning a father said to his son, "Tomorrow, I would like to eat a nice leg of mutton."

To which the boy replied, "Father, at these words my heart rejoices, and so does my stomach!"

"Still, I refuse to make the city any richer than it is already. We are going to smuggle!"

"To smuggle? While the collector of taxes is standing at the city gate?!"

"Even if there are thirty collectors of taxes standing at the gate, we will get that sheep past them."

The father whispered something in the boy's ears, whose mouth opened wider and wider in amazement. "But father .... "

"Let's go right away!"

In the rural surroundings of the city they searched for the fattest sheep around, and they squeezed the backs of many bleating animals before they made their choice. Finally they found a bloated sheep, and after they had bought it, they looked at each other and their eyes twinkled with delight. Water was running from their mouths and over their coats.

"Boiled with onions!" the father said.

"Roasted! "

"Broiled on the spit."

"O, stop now, cut it out!"

As soon as they were alone in the field, the son fetched a package that he had carried along all day.

"Ha ha ha ha!" the man laughed, "now let's fool the tax collector."

In the meantime, the boy was dressing the animal in boy's clothes and finally pulled a hat over its ears and eyes. It had started to grow dark already. Some clouds turned black against the sky, and on the horizon the night started unfolding its shadowy wings.

The man and the boy pulled the sheep upright, each with a front leg under his arm.

They started walking with the sheep between them, while the animal stumbled along – as best it could – on its hind legs. It looked like they were pulling along an extremely tired little brother. No wonder "he" had become tired, for "he" was such a fat boy ....

Slowly they approached the gate. The collector of taxes saw them coming, nodded, and started a conversation.

"Nice weather, ain't it?"

They had to stand still now.

"Yes, splendid."

"The boy is tired, obviously," the tax collector remarked.

"He's exhausted!"

"Little brother shouldn't eat so much. He's way too fat."

"Baaaaa!" little brother exclaimed, and they were caught red-handed.

Soon it was widely known that inhabitants of Dordrecht had in vain attempted to smuggle a sheep in boy's clothes into the city. It did not take long before people from surrounding cities gave the inhabitants of Dordrecht the nickname sheepheads.