An old labourer, bent double with age and toil, was gathering
sticks in a forest. At last he grew so tired and hopeless that he
threw down the bundle of sticks, and cried out: "I cannot bear
this life any longer. Ah, I wish d**h would only come and take
me!"
As he spoke, d**h, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to
him: "What wouldst thou, Mortal? I heard thee call me."
"Please, sir," replied the woodcutter, "would you kindly help
me to lift this f*ggot of sticks on to my shoulder?"
We would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified.