the opposite ends of this bridge at the same time, one must wait for the other to cross before he could go over.

   One morning, two goats, a black one and a white one, reached the opposite ends of the bridge at the same moment.

   The black goat called out to the white one, "Hold on a minute; I am coming over."

   The white goat replied, "No, I will go over first; I am in a hurry."

   "No," said the black goat, "I will not wait for you. I am the older."

   "You shall wait for me," roared the white goat as he stepped upon the bridge and started across.

   "We'll see if I am to wait for you," said the black goat, and he too started across.

   They met in the middle of the bridge.

   "Go back and let me cross,' said the white goat, stamping his foot.

   "Go back, yourself," replied the black goat, and he pushed against the other.

   They were very angry. Each drew back. Their heads came together with terrible force. They locked horns. The white goat lost his footing and fell, pulling the black goat over with him, and both were drowned.

   The mill feeders of a great mill—the stomach—met together to talk over their trials.

   The hands said, "We are tired of carrying grist to the door of the greedy mill. We would rather spend all our time painting pictures or writing books."

   "We were made for talking and singing," said the lips, "but much of our time has to be spent in taking grist for the mill."

   "And we," said the teeth, "give our life to crushing the grist which is brought to the mill. We are wearing out in its service, but what thanks do we get?"

   "I have never had a holiday," said the tongue. "I do not mind talking, but I do not like to work for the mill. Three times a day or oftener, I must help the teeth to prepare the grist. I am tired of it."

   The gullet said, "My whole life is given up to carrying the grist to the mill. I do not like such work. Let the mill feed itself. It has no business to work us 

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