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.”