The story recalls another. A Scotch farmer's son amused himself one year during the summer vacation by sitting on a gate and blowing thistledown about. The natural consequence was a fine crop of thistles. When, the following summer, Master Thomas came home for the holidays, his father took him to the field. 'Here is a nice little bit of work for you, my lad,' said the farmer. 'Just pull up all these thistles for me.'
As Thomas bent over his wearisome and prickly task, he said ruefully to himself, 'If I had not scattered that thistledown, I should not have had to do this!'
We are always sowing and planting something in our lives. What shall it be? Apples, or thistles?'
E. Dyke.
"'It is only the masterful calf.'"
AN INTRUDER.
The Leslies had taken a house on Dartmoor for the summer holidays, and when they arrived and found it was a small farm their delight knew no bounds.