THE CROOKED STICK

First Traveler: What's that lying in the dust?

Second Traveler: A crooked stick.

First Traveler: What's it worth, if you can trust

To arithmetic?

Second Traveler: Is n't this a riddle?

First Traveler: No, a trick.

Second Traveler: It's worthless. Leave it where it lies.

First Traveler: Wait; count ten;

Rub a little dust upon your eyes;

Now, look again.

Second Traveler: Well, and what the devil is it, then?

First Traveler: It's the sort of crooked stick that shepherds know.

Second Traveler: Some one's loss!

First Traveler: Bend it, and you make of it a bow.

Break it, a cross.

Second Traveler: But it's all grown over with moss!