THE GATE AND GATE-POST.
A GATE and the post that it latched to could not get along peacefully together. The gate swagged somewhat, and the post, instead of leaning back a little to accommodate it, seemed purposely to lean forward. As a consequence, there was difficulty whenever they met. The gate accused the post of getting in the way, and the post charged the gate with striking against it. Things remained in this unhappy condition for a long while, and very often the gate might be seen swinging back and forth in the wind, unable to latch itself, while the post showed ugly scars on either side, which were growing uglier and deeper every day. Neither seemed willing to yield, or even to make the first movement toward a reconciliation.
At length, on a gusty morning, after a squall had banged the gate against the post with unusual violence, the latter said:
“You needn’t think I’m going to give in. That last blow did you as much damage as it did me.”
“I don’t want you to give in,” replied the gate; “all I ask is that you lean back a little, so that I can swing free and fasten my latch as I used to do.”
“It’s your own fault that you cannot do so still,” said the post; “you began to swag and bear down on me, and then, of course, I began to butt against you.”
“Well, now,” replied the gate, “though I don’t agree to all you say, I am willing to admit this much—that there may be faults on both sides. But here we are together, and here we’ve got to stay. I can’t go off to look for another post, and you can’t go and hunt up another gate. Why can’t we try and get along as we did at first? I’m sure we were a great deal more comfortable then.”