AN Old Laborer, bent with age and toil, was gathering brush in a
forest. Growing tired and hopeless, he threw down his bundle and cried
out: “I can bear this no longer! If only Death would come and relieve
me!”
As he spoke Death came and asked him what it was that he wanted. “Pray,
good sir,” replied the Man, “do me but the favor to lift this bundle of
sticks to my back.”