pen and ask him". The devotee turned to the pen and interrogated him about his high~handedness. "Why do you trouble me", answered the pen, "Look, what am I? an insignificant reed. I was growing by the banks of silvery streams amidst shady green trees, when lo: a hand stretched at me. It held a knife, which uprooted me, flayed me and separated my joints, hewed me, cleaved my head then, chopped it off. I was sent headlong towards the ink, and have to serve abjectly. Do not add insult to my injuries, go to the hand and ask him", The devotee looked at the hand and said: "Is it true? Are you so cruel?" "Do not be angry, Sir" replied the hand, "I am a bundle of flesh, bones, and blood. Have you ever seen a piece of flesh exerting power" Can a body move of itself? I am a vehicle used by one called vitality. He rides on me and forces me round and round. You see, a dead man has hands but cannot use them because vitality has left them. Why should I, a mere vehicle, be blamed?
