A FARMER, having bought a new mowing-machine, brought it home and put it in the barn where his plough was housed, waiting for the opening of spring.

When the mower, in its bright paint and glossy varnish, saw the soiled and toil-worn plough, it said, with a scornful look:

“Why am I placed in such low company?”

“You think yourself better than I am,” said the plough, “but where would you be without me? If I did not first turn up the soil for the planting, you would never be[387]
[388] wanted for the mowing. You only finish where I have begun, and on my work your very existence depends.”

We sometimes look down on those who are not only our equals in usefulness, but whose honest labor has helped to make us better off than themselves.