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.
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