A WOLF saw a Goat feeding at the summit of a rock, where he could
not get at her.
'Why do you stay up there in that sterile place and go hungry?'
said the Wolf. 'Down here where I am the broken-bottle vine cometh
up as a flower, the celluloid collar blossoms as the rose, and the
tin-can tree brings forth after its kind.'
'That is true, no doubt,' said the Goat, 'but how about the circus-
poster crop? I hear that it failed this year down there.'
The Wolf, perceiving that he was being chaffed, went away and
resumed his duties at the doors of the poor.