"I often feel sorry for the meat people, many of whom are my friends.

Even the beasts are happier than they, for they require less to make them content.

And the birds are the luckiest creatures of all, for they can fly swiftly where they will and find a home at any place they care to perch.

Their food consists of seeds and grains they gather from the fields, and their drink is a sip of water from some running brook.

If I could not be a Scarecrow or a Tin Woodman, my next choice would be to live as a bird does." The gray dove had listened carefully to this speech and seemed to find comfort in it, for it hushed its moaning.