An old labourer, bent double with age and toil, was
gathering sticks in a forest. At last he grew so tired and
hopeless that he threw down the bundle of sticks, and
cried out: ‘I cannot bear this life any longer. Ah, I wish
Death would only come and take me!’
As he spoke, Death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said
to him: ‘What wouldst thou, Mortal? I heard thee call
me.’
‘Please, sir,’ replied the woodcutter, ‘would you kindly
help me to lift this faggot of sticks on to my shoulder?’
Moral Lesson: We would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified.
―
Aesop
