"Exactly," said the plant; "it is my mission to adorn venerable ruins."
She lapped her clinging tendrils about his wasted shanks, and in six months had mantled him in green.
"It is now time," said the devotee, a year later, "for me to fulfil the remainder of my religious vow. I must put in a few seasons of howling and leaping. You have been very good, but I no longer require your gentle ministrations."
"But I require yours," replied the vine; "you have become a second nature to me. Let others indulge in the delights of gymnastic worship; you and I will 'surfer and be strong'—respectively."
The devotee muttered something about the division of labour, and his bones are still pointed out to the pilgrim.
XCVI.
A fox seeing a swan afloat, called out:
"What ship is that? I wish to take passage by your line."
"Got a ticket?" inquired the fowl.
"No; I'll make it all right with the company, though."