Ego

A roving columnist for a regional agricultural publication tells this story:
I gather material by traveling with a saddle horse and a pack mule. Because my job is a bit unusual, my writings have attracted a following. Admittedly, my ego soars when folks recognize me and stop to chat. I had things put in their proper perspective, however, one hot day in eastern Montana.

My animals and I were loafing along. As a stock truck passed by us, the driver waved, and I waved back. I was sure that he was one of my fans. Minutes later, the truck driver came back and pulled off to the side of the road. “You’re that writer fellow, aren’t you?” he asked.”That’s right,” I replied, beaming.”I thought so,” he said. “I recognized your mule.”
Sampson, E.