A MULE, laden with choice provision of several sorts, was on his way to the field. His master and the reapers were at work there, and the provision that he carried was for the refreshment of both man and beast.
Seeing a large, strong thistle by the roadside, he stopped to eat it. "Many people would wonder," thought he, "that with such dainty food upon my back, I should have appetite for the despised thistle; but to me the bitter, prickly weed has a more savory relish than anything else in the world. Let others choose what they will, but give me a fine, juicy thistle like this, and I shall be content. Every one to his taste. It is wisely ordered that what one rejects should be the choice of another. A wise man has said that a weed is a plant that people have not yet found a use for."