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: Isn'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!