An old labourer, bent double with age and toil, was gathering sticks in a forest. At last he grew so tired and hopeless that he threw down the bundle of sticks, and cried out: "I cannot bear this life any longer. ah, I wish death would only come and take me!"As he spoke, death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to him: "What wouldst thou, mortal? I heard thee call me.""Please, sir," Replied the woodcutter, 
We would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified. 