Upon a very great Fall of Rain, the Current carried away a huge Heap of Apples, together with a Dunghill that lay in the Watercourse. They floated a good while together like Brethren and Companions; and as they went thus dancing down in the Stream, the Horse-Turds would be every foot crying out still, Alack-a-day! How we Apples swim!
Every thing would be thought greater in the World than it is; and the Root of it is this, that it first thinks itself so.
Source: L'Estrange 135.
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