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.