A Good Horse and a Better
A man once came upon a lad about midday skipping stones across
a pond. "Hello, young man," he said, approaching. "What brings you
here on a school day?"
"I wrote a poem yesterday which was the best in class, and the
teacher said I could play today while the other children wrote
more poems."
"Well, then, you are to be congratulated. Yours is certainly a
deed of distinction. And as a reward," he added, settling himself
on a tree stump, "let me tell you a story about two horses."
"Oh, yes, do," the youth said eagerly, sitting down at the
man's feet.
"The first horse lived in Arabia, and he was beautiful and
strong. He had never lost a race. And he was shrewd. He would
run just hard enough to pull away from the other horses in the race,
and then he would let up and trot, or even walk, across the finish
line, to the great embarrassment and humiliation of all the
other horses."
"He was clearly a superior animal," the young poet interjected.
"Yes, he was," agreed the man. "Now the other horse lived in
Macedonia, and he, too, was strong and noble. He had, however, lost
one race, the first race of his life; and some say he always
remembered that when he ran."
"How grating to the heart it must be to lose so early and have
a blight on one's reputation," mused the young man.
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