WHERE LIES THE BLAME?

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 9, 1899

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 25, No. 32.

WHERE LIES THE BLAME?

A FARMER drove up to our mill door with a load of wheat. He had a fine team of horses, but he, alas, was a sickly, meager-looking creature. Now, as he handed out the sacks of grain, he chanced upon a basket well-filled with golden apples.

Forthwith he gave the precious fruit to the miller, saying, in grievous tones: "Never do apples pass my lips without subsequent suffering; take them, and may they deal better with thee than me. I have no pleasure in food; all alike causes distress and bitterness."

"On what dost thou dine, friend?" asked the miller.

"Salt meat, sausage, eggs, pancakes, pickles, and white bread form the chief part of my dietary; but the water is bad where I live. The only way for me to have better health is to sell what I have and move away."

But the miller, noticing his sleek-looking horses, remarked:—

"And do your horses partake of the same water?"

"Indeed, they take no other," the farmer made answer.

"Tobacco is a daily indulgence with you?" said the miller.

"Oh, yes, I couldn't live without my pipe."

"But your horses seem to thrive on the water which injures you. If they used the tobacco you do, if they lived on your diet, would they thrive, or would the water sicken them too?"

The farmer changed his diet, and left off using tobacco. Strange to relate, the water agreed with him to perfection, and he eats apples with impunity.—St. Louis Magazine.