Sleep.
'I am not water, yet all who are thirsty, seeing me, come toward me to drink, though I am no liquid.

What am I ?' Ans.

Mirage.
'What is it that goes along the creek, across the creek, underneath it, and along it again, and yet has left neither side ?' ANS.

The yellow-flowering creeping water-weed.
'Here I am, just in front of you.

I can't move; but if you kick me, I will knock you down, though I will not move to do it.