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Fruition—the Fount I was treading through a large forest when my eyes, all of a sudden, caught sight of a big assemblage. Lo! an assemblage in the forest? A large conference consisting of the roots of the trees was in session and a banquet of free laughter and sardonic humour had been ranging all around.
‘o lovely roots!' I asked the laughing roots, 'How ironically are you mocking to-day, how sarcastically you are laughing to-day! Where lies the need for laughter with you?' A dead silence pervaded through the assembly, following upon this question. One root, extremely old, replied:
‘Brother! We are laughing to-day at the ungraciousness and ignorance of mankind. If you laugh everyday, may we not laugh sometime? See! We are buried underground, scattered through the dust, encased in darkness; and yet have we shot into open air and light this healthy tree. When the tree bears fruit, sophisticated mankind hails the fruition and felicitates the tree; but forgets entirely the nurturer
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