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 sterile1 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 forth2 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.
