A fly sat on one of the shafts of a cart and said to the mule who was pulling it, “How slow you are! Do mend your pace, or I shall have to use my sting as a goad.”

The mule was not in the least disturbed. “Behind me, in the cart,” said he, “sits my master. He holds the reins, and flicks me with his whip, and him I obey, but I don’t want any of your impertinence. I know when I may dawdle and when I may not.”

Ignore complainers who have no influence.

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