A Foolish Thing
As Feste said, “well, God give them wisdom that have it, and those that are fools, let them use their talents.”
To hold with the words of a fool, far gone indeed! Rain and shine, wind and weather, worse and better, the wise are wonderful patient. And upright as the autumn scarecrow. Wisdom though was God’s, still is, though godlike scarecrows in his weather take a piece of it. We think they also may be just a little touched in head, what with sun’ and gusted shadows’ travel over them, and the eternal sound of pie plates’ chattering. And its not that we won’t be wise, but guess (as far as guesses go, this one will go!) we can’t. So take of our talent as much as pleases you, and cast a winning smile our way (you ladies in especial), a wave, or winged word, and, as proof in earnest how your good will won’t go wasted, take in advance my thanks. What pleases you is my thrift, and leave the rest to God, should any choose to grace my folly.