Jack and Jill have a very unfortunate encounter with a hill, a pail of water, and the ground

Once upon a time there were two very well behaved children named Jack and Jill. They were called Jack and Jill, rather than Jill and Jack, for purely alphabetical reasons, and not really because Jack was male and therefore superior.
Jack was tall and blond, and rather daft. Jill was short, brunette, and had perhaps eaten one two many of Grandmother's cookies.
So one day, Jack said to Jill: "You know Jill, Grandmother will get home from work soon, and seeing as the plumbing hasn't been functioning all that well, hadn't we better go get some water for her bath?"
And then Jill replied: "Why Jack, what a brilliant idea! You're always such a thoughtful boy." And then Jack beamed with pleasure, and Jill felt better for making him happy.
Jill went and got a bucket, and the two children went walking up the hill to the well.
"Oh Jack, it's such a long way," Jill complained after a while. And her discomfort was not owing to her gender, but rather to the fact that she'd decided to wear stilettos.
"Well Jill, it might be easier if you were wearing sensible shoes," Jack pointed out. Jill nodded in agreement, and took her stilettos off. And Jack told himself, I am such a kindhearted boy, I will remove my shoes as well,so Jill will not have to walk barefoot alone. Although in fact, he had forgotten his socks and was getting blisters.
As the two children approached the crest of the hill, They saw it was getting dark.
"Grandmother must be home by now," Jill reasoned.
"Yes, and most likely quite worried about us," added Jack.
"Perhaps we should go back home then," Jill suggested.
"But," said Jack as he scratched his head, "If we arrive home late, and with nothing to show for it, then Grandmother may be angry." The two children thought on this, and they agreed.
Jill picked up the bucket again, and they kept walking. When they reached the summit, Jack took the bucket to the well.
"It's quite dark down there," he mumbled into his scarf. Jill sat watching the sunset as Jack pulled up the water. Not because she was lazy, but because she didn't want to emasculate him.
"There, all done," Jack announced proudly.
"Good. Now which way to get back home?" Jill asked. Jack looked around, and slowly his smile faded.
"Did you remember the bread crumbs?"
"Bread crumbs?" Jill repeated, her brow wrinkling.
"Never mind," Jack said, shaking his head. "It seems we're lost."
"Oh no! I suppose we should make a shelter and wait right here until a rescue team is sent," Jill exclaimed.
"Rescue team?" Jack asked. "No no, dear sister, I am sure we can find a way back down. Follow me." Jill frowned.
"Are you sure it wouldn't be wiser to remain in one place?" Jack snorted, and shook his head. Jill followed him doubtfully, as he went ahead into the gloom.
As the children walked they began to hear nighttime noises.
"What was that?" Jill asked.
"Just an owl, Jill," Jack explained, feeling very proud for having gone to boy scouts.
"No, actually, I believe it was a tree frog," Jill corrected him, knowing what she did thanks to girl guides. Jack scowled. he was a hungry boy, and the water kept dribbling out of the bucket onto his trousers.
"Then why did you ask me?" he demanded.
"Jack! There's no need to snap," Jill scolded, sounding very much like Grandmother, which only infuriated Jack. he muttered something very uncouth under his breath, which Jill pretended not to hear.
Just then, Jack tripped over a small stone, and went flying head over heels down the hill. His left foot got caught in the bucket,and as he rolled away there was a tremendous racket.
"Oh Jack!" cried Jill, and went tumbling after, tripping on the exact same small stone.
By the time Jill made it to the bottom of the hill, Jack had been rendered unconscious.
"Oh Jack!" Jill threw herself upon his limp form, and recoiled when the saw the vast amounts of blood spurting from a gaping head wound.
"Oh dear," she cried, standing. "Oh my," she cried when the wound suddenly stopped bleeding.
"Jack?" she called softly. There was no answer. She shook his body gently, but to no avail.
"Jack is dead," Jill said quietly to herself, as people in her situation often do. She glanced about quickly, and seeing no witnesses, she grabbed Jack under the armpits, and started to pull him back up the hill. It was a long and arduous trip, full of the croaking of energetic tree frogs.
"I did not mean for this to happen," Jill tried to console herself.
"If only his male ego had not prevented him from making safe decisions." She shook her head sadly.
"Grandmother would be very disappointed in me if she knew I had allowed this, me being two months older and all." Jill thought to herself for a moment, and darted another careful look about her in the darkness.
"Which is why no one must ever find out," Jill said softly, in such a way one would almost mistake her for an amphibian.
Upon reaching the summit again, Jill quickly disposed of the body, making use of the handy rope as a sling to get Jack over the edge of the well.
When Grandmother heard the door shut, she looked up quickly.
"Jill! What has happened my dear?" she asked, hugging the little girl.
"I don't know, truly, Grandmother!" Jill answered, wide-eyed. "I have spent the whole day looking for Jack, but this bucket was all I could discover!"