The Scarecrow

Once I said to a scarecrow, You must be tired of standing in this
lonely field.

And he said, The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I
never tire of it.

Said I, after a minute of thought, It is true; for I too have
known that joy.

Said he, Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.

Then I left him, not knowing whether he had complimented or belittled
me.

A year passed, during which the scarecrow turned philosopher.

And when I passed by him again I saw two crows building a nest
under his hat.