MAN AND MULE

Evening Star, Issue 22805, 13 November 1937, Page 20

MAN AND MULE

WHO IS BEST OFF ? t 1 Over the hill trailed a man behind a mule drawing a plough. Said the man to the mule: * “ Bill, you are a mule, the son of a jackass, and I am a man, made in the image of God. Yet, here we work, hitched up together, year in and year out. I often wonder if you work for mo or if I work for you. Verily, I think it a partnership between a mule and a fool, for surely I work as hard as you, if not harder. Ploughing or cultivating, wo cover the same distance, but you do it on four legs and I on two. I, therefore, do twice as much work per leg as you do. “ Soon we’ll he preparing for a corn crop. When the crop is harvested I give one-third to tho landlord for being so kind as to let mo use this small speck of God’s universe. One-third goes to you, and the balance is mine. You consume all of your portion with tho exception of the eobs, while I divide mine among seven children, six hens, two ducks, and a banker. ... If wo both need shoes, you get ’em. Bill, you are getting the best of me, and 1 ask you, is it fair for a mule, the son of a jackass, to swindle a man—tho Lord of Creation—out of his substance? ONLY HELP TO PLOUGH. “ Why, you only help to plough and cultivate the ground, and I alone must cut, shock, and husk the corn while you look over the pasture fence and hee-haw at me. “ All fall and most of the winter the ■whole family, from Granny to the baby, picks cotton to help raise money to pay

taxes and buy a new harness and pay the interest on the mortgage on you. And what do you care about the mortgage? Not a bit! You ornery cuss. I even have to do the worrying about the mortgage on your tough, ungrateful hide “ About the only time I am your better is on election day, for I can vote and you can’t. And after election I realise that I was fully as_ great a jackass ns your papa. Verily, I am prone to wonder if politics were made for men or jackasses, or to make jackasses of men. “ And that ain’t all, Bill. When you’re dead that’s supposed to be the end of you. But me? The parson tells me that when I die I gotta go to hell forever. That is, Bill, if I don’t do just as he says. And most of what he says keeps me from getting any kick out of life. . “ Tell me, Willyum, considering these things, how can you keep a straight face and look so dumb and solemn? —‘ Scottish Rite Bullet)*. 1