{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_21189/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_21189","id":"gutenberg_21189","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21189","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Children's Verse","Fables"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The University of Florida, The Internet\nArchive/Children's Library)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: AEsop in Rhyme]\n\n\n\n\nAESOP,\n\nIN RHYME;\n\nOR,\n\nOLD FRIENDS IN A NEW DRESS.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBY MARMADUKE PARK.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPHILADELPHIA:\nC. G. HENDERSON, & CO.,\nN. W. CORNER ARCH AND FIFTH STREETS.\n1852.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852,\n\nBY C. G. HENDERSON & CO.,\n\nin the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States,\nin and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE DOG AND THE WOLF.\n\n\nA wolf there was, whose scanty fare\nHad made his person lean and spare;\nA dog there was, so amply fed,\nHis sides were plump and sleek; 'tis said\nThe wolf once met this prosp'rous cur,\nAnd thus began: \"Your servant, sir;\nI'm pleased to see you look so well,\nThough how it is I cannot tell;\nI have not broke my fast to-day;\nNor have I, I'm concern'd to say,\nOne bone in store or expectation,\nAnd that I call a great vexation.\"\n\n\"Indeed it is,\" the dog replied:\n\"I know no ill so great beside;\nBut if you do not like to be\nSo poorly fed, come live with me.\"\n\"Agreed,\" rejoined the wolf, \"I'll go:\nBut pray, what work am I to do?\"\n\"Oh, guard the house, and do not fail\nTo bark at thieves, and wag your tail.\"\n\nSo off they jogg'd, and soon arrived\nAt where the friendly mastiff lived.\n\"Well,\" said the wolf, \"I can't deny\nYou have a better house than I.\"\n\"Not so,\" the other then replied,\n\"If you with me will hence abide.\"\n\"Oh,\" said the wolf, \"how kind you are!\nBut what d'ye call _that_, hanging there?\nIs it an iron chain, or what?\"\n\"Friend,\" said the dog, \"I quite forgot\nTo mention that; sometimes, you see,\nThey hook that little chain to _me_;\nBut it is only meant to keep\nUs dogs from walking in our sleep,\nAnd should you wear it, you would find,\nIt's nothing that you need to mind.\"\n\n\"I'll take your word,\" the wolf replied.\n\"It's truth by me shall ne'er be tried;\nI'll have my liberty again,\nAnd you your collar and your chain.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nOur neighbors sometimes seem to be\nA vast deal better off than we;\nYet seldom 'tis they really are,\nSince _they_ have troubles too to bear,\nWhich, if the truth were really known,\nAre quite as grievous as our own.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HERDSMAN.\n\n\nA herdsman, who lived at a time and a place\nWhich, should you not know, is but little disgrace,\nDiscover'd one morning, on counting his stock,\nThat a sheep had been stolen that night from the flock.\n\n\"Oh, I wish I had caught ye, _whoever ye be_\nI'd have soon let you know, I'd have soon let ye see,\nWhat he had to expect,\" said the herdsman, \"I trow;\nBut I've thought of a scheme that will trouble you now.\"\n\nSo what did he do, sir, but put up a board,\nDescribing the thief, and proposed a reward\nOf a lamb, to the man who would give information\nConcerning the thief, and his true designation.\n\nThe project succeeded; for soon there applied\nA certain near neighbor, with others beside.\n\"But tell me the thief,\" said the herdsman, \"at least;\"\n\"Come hither,\" said they, \"and we'll show you the beast!\"\n\n\"The _beast_!\" said the rustic, who thought he should die on\nThe spot, when he found that the thief was a lion!\n\"Ill luck to my hurry, what now shall I do?\nI promised a lamb to detect you 'tis true;\nBut now I'd consent _all_ my substance to pay,\nIf I could but with safety get out of your way.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nSilly people ask things that would ruin, if sent;\nThey demand them in haste, and at leisure repent.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BOYS AND THE FROGS.\n\n\nSome boys, beside a pond or lake,\nWere playing once at _duck and drake?_\nWhen, doubtless to their heart's content,\nVolleys of stones were quickly sent.\n\nBut there were some (there will be such)\nWho did not seem amused so much;\nThese were the frogs, to whom the game,\nIn point of sport was not the same.\n\nFor scarce a stone arrived, 'tis said,\nBut gave some frog a broken head;\nAnd scores in less than half an hour,\nPerished beneath the dreadful shower.\n\nAt last, said one, \"You silly folks, I say,\nDo fling your stones another way;\nThough _sport_ to _you_, to throw them thus,\nRemember, pray, 'tis _death_ to us!\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nFrom hence this moral may be learn'd:\nLet play _be play_ to _all concern'd_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COCK AND THE JEWEL.\n\n\nA cock there was: a sage was he\n  (If Esop we may trust,)\nWho wish'd to make a meal, you see,\n  As other sages must.\n\nWith this intent, as heretofore,\n  When on the hunt for grain;\nOur hero scratch'd the litter o'er\n  With all his might and main.\n\nBut scarce a minute had he scratch'd,\n  When, to his great surprise,\nA gem, with golden chain attach'd,\n  He saw with both his eyes.\n\n\"Alack!\" quoth he, \"what have we here?\n  A diamond, I protest!\nWhich lords and ladies buy so dear,\n  And hold in such request.\n\n\"But one good barley-corn to me\n  Has more intrinsic worth\nThan all the pearls now in the sea,\n  Or gold now in the earth.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThe moral here, in Esop's mind,\n  Was this, there's not a doubt:\nThings have _most_ value, which we find\n  We _cannot_ do without.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MAN AND THE LION.\n\n\nA man and a lion once had a dispute,\nWhich was reckon'd the greatest, the man or the brute;\nThe lion discoursed on his side at some length,\nAnd greatly enlarged on his courage and strength.\n\nThe man, one would think, had enough to reply\nOn _his_ side the question, which none could deny;\nBut like many others who make a pretence,\nHe talk'd perfect nonsense, and thought it good sense.\n\n\"So,\" says he, \"don't be prating,--look yonder, I pray,\nAt that sculpture of marble, now what will you say?\nThe lion is vanquished; but as for the man\nHe is striding upon him; deny it who can.\"\n\n\"But pray,\" said the lion, \"who sculptured that stone?\"\n\"One of _us_,\" said the man, \"I must candidly own.\"\n\"But when _we_ are sculptors,\" the other replied,\n\"You will then on the man see the _lion_ astride.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThe man might have added, if he had been wise,\n\"But a beast _cannot_ sculpture a stone, _if he tries_.\"\n_That_ sufficiently shows where the difference lies.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CRANE.\n\n\n\"I certainly think,\" said a fox to a crane,\n\"That face, ma'am of yours is remarkably plain;\nThat beak that you wear is so frightful a feature,\nIt makes you appear a most singular creature.\"\nThe crane, much offended at what she had heard,\nMarch'd off at full speed, without saying a word:\n\"Oh dear!\" said the fox, \"Mrs. Crane, I protest\nYou misunderstand me, 'twas only a jest.\"\n\"Come, don't be affronted--stay with me and dine;\nYou know very well 'tis this temper of mine\nTo say such odd things to my intimate friends;\nBut you know that poor Reynard no mischief intends.\"\nSo the crane thought it best not to break with him quite,\nBut to view his remarks in a good-natured light.\nSo she put on as pleasant a face as she could\nWhen he ask'd her to dine, and replied that she would.\nBut alas! she perceived that his jokes were not over,\nWhen Reynard removed from the victuals its cover\n'Twas neither game, butcher's meat, chicken, not fish;\nBut plain gravy-soup, in a broad shallow dish.\nNow this the fox lapp'd with his tongue very quick,\nWhile the crane could scarce dip in the point of her beak;\n\"You make a poor dinner,\" said he to his guest;\n\"Oh, dear! by no means,\" said the bird, \"I protest.\"\nBut the crane ask'd the fox on a subsequent day,\nWhen nothing, it seems, for their dinner had they\nBut some minced meat served up in a narrow-neck'd jar;\nToo long, and narrow, for Reynard by far.\n\"You make a poor dinner, I fear,\" said the bird;\n\"Why, I think,\" said the fox, \"'twould be very absurd\nTo deny what you say, yet I cannot complain,\nBut confess, though a fox, that I'm matched by a crane.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nCunning folks who play tricks which good manners condemn,\nOften find their own tricks play'd again upon them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TRAVELLER AND THE SATYR.\n\n\nA luckless wight, in winter slow,\nTravelling once a forest through\nCold and hungry, tired and wet,\nBegan in words like these to fret:\n\"Oh, what a sharp inclement day!\nAnd what a dismal, dreary way!\nNo friendly cot, no cheering fields,\nNo food this howling forest yields;\nI've nought in store or expectation!\nThere's nought before me but starvation.\"\n\n\"Not quite so bad,\" a voice replied;\nQuickly the traveller turned aside,\nAnd saw the satyr of the wood,\nWho close beside his dwelling stood.\n\"Here is my cave hard by,\" said he,\n\"Walk in, you're welcome, pray be free.\"\n\nThe traveller did not hesitate,\nHoping for something good to eat,\nBut follow'd to his heart's content,\nBlowing his finger as he went.\n\n\"Pray,\" said the satyr, \"may I know\nFor what you blow your fingers so?\"\n\n\"What! need you,\" said the man, \"be told?--\nTo _warm_ my fingers, 'numb'd with cold.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" was all his host replied,\nIntent some pottage to provide,\nWhich heated well, with spice infused,\nWas to his shivering guest produced:\n\nSo hot it was, as Esop sung,\nIt made our traveller scald his tongue;\nAnd wishing not again to do it,\nOur hero could not wait, but blew it.\n\n\"What?\" said his host, in accent rough,\n\"Is not your pottage hot enough?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the man, \"full well I know it,\n'Tis far too hot, that's why I blow it.\"\n\"You artful villain! do you so?\"\nHis host replied, with angry brow;\n\"My cave shall not a moment hold\nA man that blows both hot and cold!\nBy none but rogues can that be done,\nYou double-dealing wretch, begone!\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThe traveller scarce deserved such wrath,\nFor warming fingers--cooling broth.\nNo statutes old or new forbid it,\nAlthough with the same mouth he did it:\nYet this beware of old and young,\nWhat Esop meant--a _double tongue_;\nWhich flatters now with civil clack,\nAnd slanders soon behind one's back.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TRAVELLERS AND THE PURSE.\n\n\nTwo friends once were walking in sociable chat,\n  When a purse one espied on the ground;\n\"Oh, see!\" said he, (thank my fortune for that,)\n  \"What a large sum of money I've found!\"\n\n\"Nay, do not say _I_\" said his friend, \"for you know\n  'Tis but friendship to share it with me;\"\n\"I share it with you,\" said the other. \"How so?\n  He who _found_ it the owner should be.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" said his friend, \"but what sound do I hear?\n  'Stop thief!' one is calling to you;\nHe comes with a constable close in the rear!\"\n  Said the other, \"Oh, what shall we do?\"\n\n\"Nay, do not say _we_,\" said his friend, \"for you know\n  You claimed the sole right to the prize!\nAnd since all the _money_ was taken by you,\n  With you the _dishonesty_ lies.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nWhen people are selfish, dishonest, and mean,\nTheir nature, in dealing, will quickly be seen.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MOUTH AND THE LIMBS.\n\nIn days of yore, they say, 'twas then\n  When all things spoke their mind;\nThe arms and legs of certain men,\n  To treason felt inclined.\n\nThese arms and legs together met,\n  As snugly as they could,\nWith knees and elbows, hands and feet,\n  In discontented mood.\n\nSaid they, \"'Tis neither right nor fair,\n  Nor is there any need,\nTo labor with such toil and care,\n  The greedy mouth to feed.\"\n\n\"This we're resolved no more to do,\n  Though we so long have done it;\"\n\"Ah!\" said the knees and elbows too,\n  \"And we are bent upon it.\"\n\n\"I,\" said the tongue, \"may surely speak,\n  Since I his inmate am;\nAnd for his vices while you seek,\n  His virtues I'll proclaim.\n\n\"You say the mouth embezzles all,\n  The fruit of your exertion;\nBut I on this assembly call\n  To prove the base assertion.\n\n\"The food which you with labor gain,\n  He too with labor chews;\nNor does he long the food retain,\n  But gives it for your use.\n\n\"But he his office has resign'd\n  To whom you may prefer;\nHe begs you therefore now to find\n  Some other treasurer.\"\n\n\"Well, be it so,\" they all replied;\n  \"His wish shall be obeyed;\nWe think the hands may now be tried\n  As treasurers in his stead.\"\n\nThe hands with joy to this agreed,\n  And all to them was paid;\nBut they the treasure kept indeed,\n  And no disbursements made.\n\nOnce more the clam'rous members met,\n  A lean and hungry throng;\nWhen all allowed, from head to feet,\n  That what they'd done was wrong.\n\nTo take his office once again,\n  The mouth they all implored;\nWho soon accepted it, and then\n  Health was again restored.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThis tale for state affairs is meant,\n  Which we need not discuss;\nAt present we will be content,\n  To find a moral thus:\n\nThe mouth has claims of large amount,\n  From arms, legs, feet, and hands;\nBut let them not, on that account,\n Pay _more_ than it demands.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.\n\n\nSaid a hare to a tortoise, \"Good sir, what a while\n  You have been only crossing the way;\nWhy I really believe that to go half a mile,\n  You must travel two nights and a day.\"\n\n\"I am very contented,\" the creature replied,\n  \"Though I walk but a tortoise's pace,\nBut if you think proper the point to decide,\n  We will run half a mile in a race.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said the hare; said the tortoise, \"Proceed,\n  And the fox shall decide who has won,\"\nThen the hare started off with incredible speed;\n  But the tortoise walk'd leisurely on.\n\n\"Come tortoise, friend tortoise, walk on,\" said the hare,\n  \"Well, I shall stay here for my dinner;\nWhy, 'twill take you a month, at that rate, to get there,\n  Then how can you hope to be winner?\"\n\nBut the tortoise could hear not a word that she said\n  For he was far distant behind;\nSo the hare felt secured while at leisure she fed,\n  And took a sound nap when she dined.\n\nSo at last this slow walker came up with the hare,\n  And there fast asleep did he spy her;\nAnd he cunningly crept with such caution and care,\n  That she woke not, although he pass'd by her.\n\n\"Well now,\" thought the hare, when she open'd her eyes,\n  \"For the race,--and I soon shall have done it;\"\nBut who can describe her chagrin and surprise,\n  When she found that the _tortoise_ had won it!\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThus plain plodding people, we often shall find,\nWill leave hasty confident people behind.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MILKMAID.\n\n\nA milkmaid, who poized a full pail on her head,\nThus mused on her prospects in life, it is said:\n\"Let's see--I should think that this milk will procure\nOne hundred good eggs, or fourscore to be sure.\n\n\"Well then--stop a bit,--it must not be forgotten,\nSome of these may be broken, and some may be rotten;\nBut if twenty for accidents should be detach'd,\nIt will leave me just sixty sound eggs to hatch'd.\n\n\"Well, sixty sound eggs--no; sound chickens, I mean;\nOf these some may die--we'll suppose seventeen--\nSeventeen!--not so many--say ten at the most,\nWhich will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast.\n\n\"But then there's their barley; how much will they need?\nWhy they take but one grain at a time when they feed,\nSo that's a mere trifle; now then let us see,\nAt a fair market price, how much money there'll be?\n\n\"Six shillings a pair--five--four--three-and-six,\nTo prevent all mistakes, that low price I will fix;\nNow what will that make? fifty chickens, I said,\nFifty times three-and-sixpence--_I'll ask brother Ned_.\n\n\"Oh! but stop--three-and-sixpence a _pair_ I must sell 'em;\nWell, a pair is a couple--now then let us tell 'em;\nA couple in fifty will go--(my poor brain!)\nWhy just a score times, and five pair will remain.\n\n\"Twenty-five pair of fowls--now how shameful it is,\nThat I can't reckon up as much money as this!\nWell, there's no use in trying; so let's give a guess;\nI will say twenty pounds, and _it can't be no less_.\n\n\"Twenty pounds, I am certain, will buy me a cow,\nThirty geese, and two turkeys--eight pigs and a sow;\nNow if these turn out well, at the end of the year,\nI shall fill both my pockets with guineas 'tis clear.\n\n\"Then I'll bid that old tumble-down hovel good-bye;\nMy mother she'll scold, and my sisters they'll cry:\nBut I won't care a crow's egg for all they can say;\nI sha'n't go to stop with such beggars as they!\"\n\nBut forgetting her burden, when this she had said,\nThe maid superciliously toss'd up her head\nWhen alas! for her prospects--the milk pail descended!\nAnd so all her schemes for the future were ended.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThis moral, I think, may be safely attach'd:\nReckon not on your chickens before they are hatch'd.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES.\n\n\nA lark who had her nest conceal'd,\nSays Esop, in a barley field;\nBegan, as harvest time drew near,\nThe reaping of the corn to fear;\nAfraid they would her nest descry,\nBefore her tender brood could fly.\nShe charged them therefore every day,\nBefore for food she flew away,\nTo watch the farmer in her stead,\nAnd listen well to all he said.\n\nIt chanced one day, she scarce was gone,\nEre the farmer came and his son.\nThe farmer well his field survey'd,\nAnd sundry observations made;\nAt last, \"I'll tell you what,\" said he,\n\"This corn is fit to cut, I see;\nBut we our neighbor's help must borrow,\nSo tell them we begin to-morrow.\"\n\nJust after this the lark returned,\nWhen from her brood this news she learned.\n\"Ah! dearest mother,\" then, said they,\n\"Pray, let us all begone to-day.\"\n\n\"My dears,\" said she, \"you need not fret,\nI shall not be uneasy yet;\nFor if he waits for neighbor's aid,\nThe business long will be delay'd.\"\n\nAt dawn she left her nest once more,\nAnd charged her young ones as before.\n\nAt five the farmer came again,\nAnd waited for his friends in vain,\n\"Well,\" said the man, \"I fancy, son,\nThese _friends_ we can't depend upon;\nTo-morrow early, mind you go,\nAnd let our own _relations_ know.\"\n\nAgain the lark approach'd her nest,\nWhen round her all her young ones press'd,\nAnd told their mother, word for word,\nThe fresh intelligence they heard.\n\n\"Ah, children, be at ease,\" said she\n\"We're safe another day, I see;\nFor these _relations_, you will find,\nJust like his _friends_, will stay behind.\"\n\nAt dawn again the lark withdrew,\nAnd did again her charge renew.\n\nOnce more the farmer early came,\nAnd found the case was just the same.\nThe day advanced, the sun was high;\nBut not a single help drew nigh.\nThen said the farmer, \"Hark ye, son--\nI see this job will not be done,\nWhile thus we wait for friends and neighbors;\nSo you and I'll commence our labors:\nTo-morrow early, we'll begin\n_Ourselves_, and get our harvest in.\"\n\n\"Now,\" said the lark, when this she heard,\n\"Our movement must not be deferr'd;\nFor if the farmer and his son\nThemselves begin, 'twill soon be done.\"\n\nThe morrow proved the lark was right;\nFor all was cut and housed by night.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nHence, while we wait for other's aid,\nOur business needs must be delay'd;\nWhich might be done with half the labor\n'Twould take to go and call a neighbor.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHER AND THE\nACORN.\n\n\nA philosopher, proud of his wit and his reason,\nSat him under an oak in a hot summer season.\nOn the oak grew an acorn or two, it is said:\nOn the ground grew a pumpkin as big as his head.\n\nThought the sage, \"What's the reason this oak is so strong\nA few acorns to bear that are scarce an inch long;\nWhile this poor feeble plant has a weight to sustain,\nWhich had much better hang on the tree, it is plain?\"\n\nBut just at the time the philosopher spoke\nAn acorn dropp'd down on his head from the oak;\nThen, said he, who just now thought _his_ plan was so clever,\n\"I am glad that _this_ was not a pumpkin, however.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThe sage would no doubt have looked grievously dull,\nHad a pumpkin descended with force on his scull.\nOf his folly then let us in future beware,\nAnd believe that _such_ matters _are best as they are_:\nLeave the manners and customs of oak trees alone,\nOf acorns, and pumpkins--and look to our own.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE CRANE.\n\n\nA wolf, once forgetting the size of his swallow,\n  Tried to pass a large marrow-bone through it.\n\"Oh dear,\" said the beast, thinking death was to follow,\n  \"How careless and stupid to do it!\"\n\nHis mouth was propp'd open by means of the bone,\n  And his breathing was greatly impeded,\nBut a crane coming up, he contrived to make known\n  What kind of assistance he needed.\n\n\"How d'ye do?\" said the bird; said the beast, \"Very ill,\n  For a bone has gone down the wrong way;\nBut if you can extract it by means of your bill,\n  The service I'll amply repay.\"\n\nThought the crane, \"I'm no surgeon: yet all must agree,\n  That my bill will make excellent _forceps_;\nAnd as for the money, I do not now see\n  Why I need refuse taking his worship's.\"\n\nSaid the bird, \"It's agreed;\" said his patient, \"Proceed,\n  And take the bone hence, I beseech;\"\nWhich, after awhile, and with infinite toil,\n  The crane at last managed to reach.\n\n\"Thank my stars!\" said the beast, from his terrors released,\n  \"Thank you _too_, sir,\" said he to the bird;\n\"Alas!\" said the crane, \"is this all I'm to gain,\n  I was waiting the promised reward.\"\n\nSaid the wolf, \"You forget, I've contracted no debt,\n  Since the service was _rendered by me_;\nYour head I releas'd from the jaws of a beast,\n  And now you're demanding a fee!\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nGive your help to a wolf, should he beg for your aid,\nBut you must not expect when you've done to be paid.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE DOG AND THE SHADOW.\n\n\nA dog growing thinner, for want of a dinner,\n  Once purloined him a joint from a tray,\n\"How happy I am, with this shoulder of lamb,\"\n  Thought the cur as he trotted away.\n\nBut the way that he took, lay just over a brook,\n  Which he found it was needful to cross;\nSo without more ado, he plunged in to go through,\n  Not dreaming of danger or loss.\n\nBut what should appear, in this rivulet clear,\n  As he thought upon coolest reflection,\nBut a cur like himself, who with ill-gotten pelf,\n  Had run off in that very direction.\n\nThought the dog, _a propos_! but that instant let go\n  (As he snatched at this same water-spaniel)\nThe piece he possess'd:--so with hunger distress'd\n  He slowly walk'd home to his kennel.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nHence, when we are needy, don't let us be greedy,\n  (Excuse me this line of digression,)\nLest in snatching at all, like the dog, we let fall\n  The good that we have in possession.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR.\n\n\nTwo trav'llers one morning set out from their home,\nIt might be from Sparta, from Athens, or Rome;\nIt matters not which, but agreed, it is said,\nShould danger arise, to lend each other aid.\n\nBut scarce was this done, when forth rushing amain,\nSprung a bear from a wood tow'rds these travellers twain;\nThen one of our heroes, with courage immense,\nClimb'd into a tree, and there found his defence.\n\nThe other fell flat to the earth with dread,\nWhen the bear came and smelt him, and thought he was dead;\nSo not liking the carcase, away trotted he,\nWhen straight our brave hero descended the tree.\n\nThen, said he, \"I can't think what the bear could propose,\nWhen so close to your ear, he presented his nose.\"\n\"Why this,\" said the other, \"he told me to do,\nTo beware for the future of cowards like you.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThose people who run from their friends in distress,\nWill be left when _themselves_ are in trouble, I guess.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FROGS AND THE BULL.\n\n\nA Bull once treading near a bog,\nDisplaced the entrails of a frog,\n  Who near his foot did trust them;\nIn fact, so great was the contusion,\nAnd made of his inwards such confusion,\n  No art could re-adjust them.\n\nIt chanced that some who saw his fate,\nDid to a friend the deed relate,\n  With croakings, groans, and hisses;\n\"The beast,\" said they, \"in size excell'd\nAll other beasts,\" their neighbors swell'd,\n  And ask'd, \"as large as this is!\"\n\n\"Oh, larger far than that,\" said they,\n\"Do not attempt it, madam, pray;\"\n  But still the frog distended,\nAnd said, \"I'll burst, but I'll exceed,\"\nShe tried, and burst herself indeed!\n  And so the matter ended.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nShould you with pride inflate and swell,\nAs did the frog: then who can tell!\nYour sides may crack, as has been shown,\nAnd we with laughing crack our own.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COUNCIL OF MICE.\n\n\nSome mice who saw fit, once a quarter to meet,\n  To arrange the concerns of their city;\nThought it needful to choose, as is common with us,\n  First a chairman, and then a committee.\n\nWhen the chairman was seated, the object he stated\n  For which at that meeting they sat:\nWhich was, it should seem, the concerting a scheme\n  To defeat the designs of the cat.\n\nDr. Nibblecheese rose, and said, \"I would propose,\n  To this cat we fasten a bell;\nHe who likes what I've said, now will hold up his head;\n  He who does not, may hold up his tail.\"\n\nSo out of respect, they their noses erect,\n  Except one who the order reversed;\n_Ayes_, all then but one, but yet nought could be done,\n  Until he had his reasons rehearsed.\n\n\"I shall not,\" said this mouse, \"waste the time of the house,\n  In long arguments; since, as I view it,\nThe scheme would succeed without doubt, if indeed\n  We could find any mouse who would _do it_.\"\n\n\"Hear! hear!\" was the cry, and \"no bells we will try,\n  Unless you will fasten them on;\"\nSo quite broken-hearted the members departed,\n  For the bill was rejected _nem. con._\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThen be not too hasty in giving advice,\nLest your schemes should remind of the council of mice;\nYou had better delay your opinion a year,\nThan put forth a ridiculous one, it is clear.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE LAMB.\n\n\nA wolf and lamb once chanced to meet,\nBeside a stream, whose waters sweet\nBrought various kinds of beasts together,\nWhen dry and sultry was the weather;\nNow though the wolf came there to _drink_,\nOf _eating_, he began to think,\nAs soon as near the lamb he came,\nAnd straight resolved to kill the same;\nYet thought it better to begin,\nWith threat'ning words and angry mien.\n\n\"And so,\" said he, to him below,\n\"How dare you stir the water so?\nMaking the cool refreshing flood,\nAs brown as beer, and thick as mud.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the lamb, \"that cannot be,\nThe water flows _from you to me_;\nSo, 'tis impossible, I think,\nThat what I do can spoil your drink.\"\n\n\"I say it does, you saucy puss:\nHow dare you contradict me thus;\nBut more than this, you idle clack,\nYou rail'd at me behind my back\nTwo years ago, I have been told;\"\n\"How so? I'm not a twelvemonth old,\"\nThe lamb replied; \"So I suspect\nYour honor is not quite correct.\"\n\n\"If not, your mother it must be,\nAnd that comes all the same to me,\"\nRejoined the wolf--who waited not\nBut kill'd and ate him on the spot.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nSome, like the wolf, adopt the plan,\nTo make a quarrel _if they can_;\nBut none with you can hold dispute,\nIf you're _determined_ to be mute;\nFor sure this proverb must be true,\nThat ev'ry _quarrel_ must have _two_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BEASTS IN PARTNERSHIP.\n\n\nThis _firm_ once existed, I'd have you to know,\nMessrs. Lion, Wolf, Tiger, Fox, Leopard, and Co.;\nThese in business were join'd, and of course 'twas implied,\nThey their stocks should unite, and the profits divide.\n\nNow the fable relates, it so happened one day,\nThat their efforts combined, made a bullock their prey:\nBut agreed that the Lion should make the division,\nAnd patiently waited the monarch's decision.\n\n\"My friends,\" said the Lion, \"I've parted, you see,\nThe whole into six, which is right, you'll agree;\nOne part I may claim, as my share in the trade.\"\n\"Oh, take it and welcome,\" they all of them said.\n\n\"I claim too the second; since no one denies\n'Twas my courage and conduct that gained you the prize:\nAnd for the third; that you know is a fine\nTo the Lord of the manor, and therefore is mine.\"\n\n\"Hey day!\" said the fox; \"Stop a bit,\" said the lion,\n\"I have not quite done,\" said he, fixing his eye on\nThe other three parts; \"you are fully aware,\nThat, as _tribute_, one other part comes to my share.\n\n\"And I think 'twould be prudent, the next to put by\nSomewhere safe in _my_ den for a future supply,\nAnd the other, you know, will but barely suffice,\nTo pay those expenses which always arise.\"\n\n\"If this be the case,\" said the fox, \"I discern\nThat the business to _us_ is a losing concern;\nIf so to withdraw, I should think would be best;\"\n\"Oh, yes! let us break up the firm,\" said the rest;\n\nAnd so:--for you may not have heard of it yet,--\nIt was quickly dissolved, though not in _the gazette_.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nSome folks in their dealings, like him in the fable,\nWill take others' shares, if they think they are able;\nBut let them not wonder who act in this way,\nIf they find none will join them in business or play.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE LION AND THE MOUSE.\n\n\nA lion, with the heat oppress'd,\nOne day composed himself to rest;\nBut whilst he dozed, as he intended,\nA mouse his royal back ascended;\nNor thought of harm as Esop tells,\nMistaking him for something else,\nAnd travelled over him, and round him,\nAnd might have left him as he found him,\nHad he not, tremble when you hear,\nTried to explore the monarch's ear!\nWho straightway woke with wrath immense,\nAnd shook his head to cast him thence.\n\"You rascal, what are you about,\"\nSaid he, when he had turned him out.\n\"I'll teach you soon,\" the lion said,\n\"To make a mouse-hole in my head!\"\nSo saying, he prepared his foot,\nTo crush the trembling tiny brute;\nBut he, the mouse, with tearful eye,\nImplored the lion's clemency,\nWho thought it best at least to give\nHis little pris'ner a reprieve.\n'Twas nearly twelve months after this,\nThe lion chanced his way to miss;\nWhen pressing forward: heedless yet,\nHe got entangled in a net.\nWith dreadful rage he stamp'd and tore,\nAnd straight commenced a lordly roar;\nWhen the poor mouse who heard the noise,\nAttended, for she knew his voice.\nThen what the lion's utmost strength\nCould not effect, she did at length:\nWith patient labor she applied\nHer teeth, the net-work to divide;\nAnd so at last forth issued he,\nA _lion_, by a mouse set free.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nFew are so small or weak, I guess,\nBut may assist us in distress;\nNor shall we ever, if we're wise,\nThe meanest, or the least, despise.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE JEALOUS ASS.\n\n\n\"There lived,\" says friend Esop, \"some ages ago,\nAn ass who had feelings acute, you must know;\nThis ass to be jealous, felt strongly inclined,\nAnd for reasons which follow, felt hurt in his mind.\"\n\nIt seems that his master, as I understand,\nHad a favorite dog which he fed from his hand.\nNay, the dog was permitted to jump on his knee:\nAn honor that vex'd our poor donkey to see.\n\n\"Now,\" thought he, \"what's the reason, I cannot see any,\nThat I have no favors, while he has so many?\nIf all this is got by just wagging his tail,\nWhy _I_ have got one, which I'll wag without fail.\"\n\nSo the donkey resolved to try what he could do\nAnd, determined unusual attentions to show,\nWhen his master was dining, came into the room.\n\"Good sir!\" said his friends, \"why your donkey is come!\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said their host, great astonishment showing,\nWhen he saw the ass come, while his tail was a-going;\nBut who can describe his dismay or fear,\nWhen the donkey rear'd up, and bray'd loud in his ear!\n\n\"You rascal get down,--John, Edward, or Dick!\nWhere are you? make haste, and come here with a stick.\"\nThe man roared--the guests laugh'd--the dog bark'd--the bell rung:\nCoals, poker, and tongs, at the donkey were flung,\n\nTill the blows and the kicks, with combined demonstration,\nConvinced him that this was a bad speculation;\nSo, mortified deeply, his footsteps retrod he,\nHurt much in his mind, but still more in his body.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nSo some silly children, as stupid as may be,\nWill cry for indulgences fit for a baby.\nHad they enter'd the room while the donkey withdrew,\nThey'd have seen their own folly and punishment too:\nLet them think of this fable, and what came to pass;\nNor forget, he who play'd this fine game was _an ass_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TOWN AND COUNTRY MICE.\n\n\nA plain, but honest, country mouse,\nResiding in a miller's house;\nOnce, on a time, invited down\nAn old acquaintance of the town:\nAnd soon he brought his dainties out;\nThe best he had there's not a doubt.\nA dish of oatmeal and green peas,\nWith half a candle, and some cheese;\nSome beans, and if I'm not mistaken,\nA charming piece of Yorkshire bacon.\nAnd then to show he was expert\nIn such affairs, a fine dessert\nWas next produced, all which he press'd,\nWith rustic freedom, on his guest.\n\nBut he, the city epicure,\nThis homely fare could not endure\nIndeed he scarcely broke his fast\nBy what he took, but said, at last,\n\"Old crony, now, I'll tell you what:\nI don't admire this lonely spot;\nThis dreadful, dismal, dirty hole,\nSeems more adapted for a mole\nThan 'tis for you; Oh! could you see\n_My_ residence, how charm'd you'd be.\nInstead of bringing up your brood\nIn wind, and wet, and solitude,\nCome bring them all at once to town,\nWe'll make a courtier of a clown.\nI think that, for your children's sake,\n'Tis proper my advice to take.\"\n\"Well,\" said his host, \"I can but try,\nAnd so poor quiet hole good bye!\"\n\nThen off they jogg'd for many a mile,\nTalking of splendid things the while;\nAt last, in town, they all arrived--\nFound where the city mouse had lived--\nEntered at midnight through a crack,\nAnd rested from their tedious track.\n\n\"Now,\" said the city mouse, \"I'll show\nWhat kind of fare I've brought you to:\"\nOn which he led the rustic mice\nInto a larder, snug and nice,\nWhere ev'ry thing a mouse could relish,\nDid ev'ry shelf and nook embellish.\n\n\"Now is not this to be preferr'd\nTo your green peas?\" \"Upon my word,\nIt is,\" the country mouse replied,\n\"All this must needs the point decide.\"\n\nScarce had they spoke these words, when, lo!\nA tribe of servants hasten'd through,\nAnd also two gigantic cats,\nWho spied our country mouse and brats.\nThen, by a timely exit, she\nJust saved herself and family.\n\n\"Oh, ask me not,\" said she in haste,\n\"Your tempting dainties more to taste;\nI much prefer my homely peas,\nTo splendid dangers such as these.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThen let not those begin to grumble,\nWhose lot is safe, though poor and humble;\nNor envy him who better fares,\nBut for each good, has twenty cares.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CROW.\n\n\nCrows feed upon worms: yet an author affirms\n  Cheshire cheese they will get if they're able;\n\"For,\" said he, \"I well know, one unprincipled crow\n  Once purloined a large piece from my table.\"\n\nThen away darted she, to the shade of a tree,\n  To deposit the booty within her;\nBut it never occurr'd to the mind of the bird,\n  That a _fox_ was to have it for dinner.\n\n\"How many a slip, 'twixt the cup and the lip!\"\n  (Excuse me, I pray, the digression,)\nSaid a fox to himself, \"I can share in the pelf,\n  If I act with my usual discretion.\"\n\nSo said he, \"Is it you? pray, ma'am, how do you do,\n  I have long wish'd to pay you a visit;\nFor a twelvemonth has pass'd, since I heard of you last\n  Which is not very neighborly, is it?\n\n\"But, dear madam,\" said he, \"you are dining, I see;\n  On that subject I'd ask your advice;\nPray, ma'am, now can you tell, where provisions they sell,\n  That are not an extravagant price?\n\n\"Bread and meat are so dear, and have been for a year,\n  That poor people can scarcely endure it,\nAnd then _cheese is so high_, that such beggars as I,\n  _Till it falls_, cannot hope to procure it.\"\n\nBut the ill-behaved bird did not utter a word,\n  Still intent on retaining her plunder;\nThought the fox, \"It should seem, this is not a good scheme,\n  What else can I think of, I wonder?\"\n\nSo said Reynard once more, \"I ne'er knew it before,\n  But your feathers are whiter than snow is!\"\nBut thought he, when he'd said it, \"she'll ne'er give it credit,\n  For what bird is so black as a crow is.\"\n\"But I'm told that your voice is a horrible noise,\n  Which they say of all sounds is the oddest;\nBut then this is absurd, for it never is heard,\n  Since you are so excessively modest.\"\n\nIf _that's_ all thought the crow, \"I will soon let you know\n  That all doubt on that score may be ended;\"\nThen most laughingly piped, the poor silly biped,\n  When quickly her dinner descended!\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nIf this _biped_ had not been so vain and conceited,\nShe would not by the fox quite so soon have been cheated;\nBut perhaps the term _biped_ to some may be new:\n'Tis a two-legged creature--perchance it is _you_.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE LION AND THE ECHO.\n\n\nA lion, bravest of the wood,\nWhose title undisputed stood,\nAs o'er the wide domains he prowl'd,\nAnd in pursuit of booty growl'd,\nAn Echo from a distant cave\nRegrowl'd, articulately grave:\nHis majesty, surprised, began\nTo think at first it was a man;\nBut on reflection sage, he found\nIt was too like a lion's sound.\n\"Whose voice is that which growls at mine?\"\nHis highness ask'd. Says Echo, \"Mine!\"\n\"Thine!\" says the Lion: \"Who art thou?\"\nEcho as stern cried, \"Who art thou?\"\n\"Know I'm a lion, hear and tremble!\"\nReplied the king. Cried Echo, \"Tremble!\"\n\"Come forth,\" says Lion; \"show thyself.\"\nLaconic Echo answered, \"Elf.\"\n\"Elf, durst thou call me, vile pretender?\"\nEcho as loud replies, \"Pretender!\"\nAt this, as jealous of his reign,\nHe growl'd in rage; she growl'd again.\nIncensed the more, he chafed and foam'd,\nAnd round the spacious forest roam'd\nTo find the rival of his throne,\nWho durst with him dispute the crown.\n\nA fox, who listen'd all the while,\nAddress'd the monarch with a smile:\n\"My liege, most humbly I make bold,\nThough truth may not be always told,\nThat this same phantom which you hear,\nThat so alarms your royal ear,\nIs not a rival of your throne:\nThe voice and fears are all your own.\"\nImaginary terrors scare\nA timorous soul with real fear;\nNay, even the wise and brave are cow'd\nBy apprehensions from the crowd:\nA frog a lion may disharm,\nAnd yet how causeless the alarm!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE PAPER KITE.\n\n\nOnce on a time, a paper kite\nWas mounted to a wondrous height;\nWhere, giddy with its elevation,\nIt thus express'd self-admiration:\n\"See how yon crowds of gazing people\nAdmire my flight above the steeple;\nHow would they wonder, if they knew\nAll that a kite, like me, could do?\nWere I but free, I'd take a flight,\nAnd pierce the clouds beyond their sight.\nBut, ah! like a poor prisoner bound,\nMy string confines me near the ground.\nI'd brave the eagle's towering wing,\nMight I but fly without a string.\"\nIt tugg'd and pull'd, while thus it spoke,\nTo break the string--at last it broke!\nDeprived at once of all its stay,\nIn vain it tried to soar away:\nUnable its own weight to bear,\nIt flutter'd downward through the air;\nUnable its own course to guide,\nThe winds soon plunged it in the tide.\nOh! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing,\nHow could'st thou fly without a string?\nMy heart replied, \"Oh, Lord, I see\nHow much the kite resembles me!\nForgetful that by thee I stand,\nImpatient of thy ruling hand;\nHow oft I've wish'd to break the lines\nThy wisdom for my lot assigns!\nHow oft indulged a vain desire\nFor something more or something higher!\nAnd but for grace and love divine,\nA fall thus dreadful had been mine.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE RATS AND THE CHEESE.\n\n\nIf bees a government maintain,\nWhy may not rats of stronger brain\nAnd greater power, as well bethought\nBy Machiavelian axioms taught?\nAnd so they are, for thus of late\nIt happened in the rats' free state.\nTheir prince (his subjects more to please)\nHad got a mighty Cheshire cheese,\nIn which his ministers of state\nMight live in plenty and grow great.\nA powerful party straight combined,\nAnd their united forces join'd,\nTo bring their measures into play,\nFor none so loyal were as they;\nAnd none such patriots, to support\nAs well the country as the court.\nNo sooner were those Dons admitted\nBut (all those wondrous virtues quitted)\nThey all the speediest means devise\nTo raise themselves and families.\nAnother party well observing\nThese pamper'd were, while they were starving,\nTheir ministry brought in disgrace,\nExpelled them and supplied their place;\nThese on just principles were known\nThe true supporters of the throne,\nAnd for the subjects liberty\nThey'd (marry would they) freely die;\nBut being well fix'd in their station,\nRegardless of their prince and nation,\nJust like the others, all their skill\nWas how they might their paunches fill.\nOn this a rat, not quite so blind\nIn state intrigues as human kind,\nBut of more honor, thus replied:\n\"Confound ye all on either side;\nAll your contentions are but these,\nWhose arts shall best secure the cheese.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAURELIA AND THE SPIDER.\n\n\nThe muslin torn, from tears of grief\nIn vain Aurelia sought relief;\nIn sighs and plaints she pass'd the day;\nThe tatter'd frock neglected lay:\nWhile busied at the weaving trade,\nA spider heard the sighing maid\nAnd kindly stopping in a trice,\nThus offer'd (gratis) her advice:\n\"Turn, little girl! behold in me\nA stimulus to industry\nCompare your woes, my dear, with mine,\nThen tell me who should most repine:\nThis morning, ere you left your room,\nThe chambermaid's remorseless broom\nIn one sad moment that destroy'd,\nTo build which thousands were employ'd!\nThe shock was great; but as my life\nI saved in the relentless strife,\nI knew lamenting was in vain,\nSo patient went to work again.\nBy constant work, a day or more,\nMy little mansion did restore:\nAnd if each tear which you have shed\nHad been a needle-full of thread,\nIf every sigh of sad despair\nHad been a stitch of proper care,\nClosed would have been the luckless rent,\nNor thus the day have been misspent.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE REDBREAST AND THE\nSPARROW.\n\n\nPerch'd on a tree, hard by a rural cot,\nA redbreast singing cheer'd the humble spot;\nA sparrow on the thatch in critic spleen\nThus took occasion to reprove the strain:\n\"Dost thou,\" cried he, \"thou dull dejected thing,\nPresume to emulate the birds of spring?\nCan thy weak warbling dare approach the thrush\nOr blackbird's accents in the hawthorn bush?\nOr with the lark dost thou poor mimic, vie,\nOr nightingale's unequal'd melody?\nThese other birds possessing twice thy fire\nHave been content in silence to admire.\"\n\"With candor judge,\" the minstrel bird replied,\n\"Nor deem my efforts arrogance or pride;\nThink not ambition makes me act this part,\nI only sing because I love the art:\nI envy not, indeed, but much revere\nThose birds whose fame the test of skill will bear;\nI feel no hope arising to surpass,\nNor with their charming songs my own to class;\nFar other aims incite my humble strain.\nThen surely I your pardon may obtain,\nWhile I attempt the rural vale to move\nBy imitating of the lays I love.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE POET AND THE COBWEBS.\n\n\nA bard, whose pen had brought him more\nOf fame than of the precious ore,\nIn Grub Street garret oft reposed\nWith eyes contemplative half-closed.\nCobwebs around in antique glory,\nChief of his household inventory,\nSuggested to his roving brains\nAmazing multitude of scenes.\n\n\"This batch,\" said he, \"of murder-spinners\nWho toil their brains out for their dinners,\nThough base, too long unsung has lain\nBy kindred brethren of Duck Lane,\nUnknowing that its little plan\nHolds all the cyclopedia of man.\n\n\"This one, whose radiant thread\nIs every where from centre spread,\nLike orbs in planetary skies,\nEnclosed with rounds of various size,\nThis curious frame I aptly call\nA cobweb mathematical.\n\n\"In secret holes, that dirty line,\nWhere never sun presumes to shine,\nWith straws, and filth, and time beset,\nWhere all is fish that comes to net,\nThat musty film, the Muse supposes\nFigures the web of Virtuosos.\n\n\"You, where the gaudy insect sings,\nAre cobwebs of the court of kings,\nWhere gilded threads conceal the gin.\nAnd broider'd knaves are caught therein.\n\n\"That holly, fix'd 'mid mildew'd panes,\nOf cheerless Christmas the remains\n(I only dream and sing its cheer,\nMy Muse keeps Lent throughout the year)\nThat holly, labor'd o'er and o'er,\nIs cobwebs of the lawyer's lore,\nWhere frisky flies, on gambols borne,\nFind out the snare, when lost, undone.\n\n\"These dangling webs, with dirt and age,\nDisplay their tatter'd equipage,\nSo like the antiquarian crew,\nThat those in every thread I view.\n\n\"Here death disseminated lies,\nIn shrunk anatomies of flies;\nAnd amputated limbs declare\nWhat vermin lie in ambush there:\nA baited lure with drugg'd perdition,\nA cobweb, not misnamed physician.\n\n\"Those plaited webs, long pendent there,\nOf sable bards a subtle snare,\nOf all-collective disposition,\nWhich holds like gout of inquisition,\nMay well denominated be,\nThe trap-webs of divinity.\"\n\nBut whilst our bard described the scene,\nA bee stole through a broken pane;\nFraught with the sweets of every flower,\nIn taking his adventurous tour,\nIs there entrapp'd. Exert thy sting,\nBold bee, and liberate thy wing!\nThe poet kindly dropp'd his pen,\nAnd freed the captive from its den;\nThen musing o'er his empty table,\nForgot the moral of his fable.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE EPICURE AND THE PHYSICIAN.\n\n\nTwo hundred years ago, or more,\nAn heir possess'd a miser's store;\nRejoiced to find his father dead,\nTill then on thrifty viands fed;\nUnnumber'd dishes crown'd his board,\nWith each unwholesome trifle stored.\nHe ate--and long'd to eat again,\nBut sigh'd for appetite in vain:\nHis food, though dress'd a thousand ways,\nHad lost its late accustom'd praise;\nHe relish'd nothing--sickly grew--\nYet long'd to taste of something new.\nIt chanced in this disastrous case,\nOne morn betimes he join'd the chase:\nSwift o'er the plain the hunters fly,\nEach echoing out a joyous cry;\nA forest next before them lay;\nHe, left behind, mistook his way,\nAnd long alone bewildered rode,\nHe found a peasant's poor abode;\nBut fasting kept, from six to four,\nFelt hunger, long unfelt before;\nThe friendly swain this want supplied,\nAnd Joan some eggs and bacon fried.\nNot dainty now, the squire in haste\nFell to, and praised their savory taste;\nNay, said his meal had such a _gout_\nHe ne'er in tarts and olios knew.\nRejoiced to think he'd found a dish,\nThat crown'd his long unanswer'd wish,\nWith gold his thankful host he paid,\nWho guides him back from whence he stray'd;\nBut ere they part, so well he dined,\nHis rustic host the squire enjoin'd\nTo send him home next day a stock\nOf those same eggs and charming hock.\nHe hoped this dish of savory meat\nWould prove that still 'twas bliss to eat;\nBut, ah! he found, like all the rest,\nThese eggs were tasteless things at best;\nThe bacon not a dog would touch,\nSo rank--he never tasted such!\nHe sent express to fetch the clown,\nAnd thus address'd him with a frown:\n\"These eggs, this bacon, that you sent,\nFor Christian food were never meant;\nAs soon I'll think the moon's a cheese,\nAs those you dress'd the same with these.\nLittle I thought\"--\"Sir,\" says the peasant,\n\"I'm glad your worship is so pleasant:\nYou joke, I'm sure: for I can swear,\nThe same the fowls that laid them are!\nAnd know as well that all the bacon\nFrom one the self-same flitch was taken:\nThe air, indeed, about our green\nIs known to make the stomach keen.\"\n\"Is that the case?\" the squire replied;\n\"That air shall be directly tried.\"\nHe gave command--a house he hired,\nAnd down he goes with hope inspired,\nAnd takes his cooks--a favorite train;\nBut still they ply their art in vain.\nPerhaps 'twas riding did the feat:\nHe rides,--but still he cannot eat.\nAt last a friend, to physic bred,\nPerceived his case, and thus he said:\n\"Be ruled by me, you soon shall eat,\nWith hearty gust, the plainest meat;\nA pint of milk each rising morn,\nProcure from cow of sable horn;\nShake in three drops of morning dew\nFrom twig of ever-verdant yew;\nIt must by your own hand be done,\nYour face turn'd westward from the sun.\nWith this, ere half an hour is past,\nWell crumb'd with biscuit, break your fast;\nWhich done, from food (or all is vain)\nFor twice three hours and one abstain--\nThen dine on one substantial dish,\nIf plainly dress'd, of flesh or fish.\"\nGrave look'd the doctor as he spake--\nThe squire concludes th' advice to take,\nAnd, cheated into temperance, found\nThe bliss his former luxury drown'd.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FROGS DESIRING A KING.\n\n\nAthens in freedom flourish'd long,\n'Till licence seized the giddy throng.\nJust laws grown weary to obey,\nThey sunk to tyranny a prey.\nPisistratus, though mild he sway'd,\nTheir turbulence had not allay'd.\nWhilst they were cursing in despair,\nThe yoke they had not learn'd to bear,\nEsop, their danger to describe,\nRehears'd this fable to the tribe:\n\n\"Some frogs, like you, of freedom tired,\nFrom Jupiter a king desir'd:\nOne that should execute the law,\nAnd keep the dissolute in awe.\nJove laugh'd, and threw them down a log,\nThat thundering fell and shook the bog.\nAmongst the reeds the tremblers fled:\nTill one more bold advanc'd his head,\nAnd saw the monarch of the flood\nLying half smothered in the mud.\nHe calls the croaking race around:\n\"A wooden king!\" the banks resound.\nFear once remov'd they swim about him,\nAnd gibe and jeer and mock and flout him;\nAnd messengers to Jove depute,\nEffectively to grant their suit.\nA hungry stork he sent them then,\nWho soon had swallow'd half the fen.\nTheir woes scarce daring to reveal,\nTo Mercury by night they steal,\nAnd beg him to entreat of Jove\nThe direful tyrant to remove.\n'No,' says the God, 'they chose their lot,\nAnd must abide what they have got:'\nSo you, my friends, had best go home\nIn peace, lest something worse should come.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HARE AND THE BRAMBLE.\n\n\nA hare, closely pursued, thought it prudent and meet\nTo a bramble for refuge awhile to retreat;\nHe enter'd the covert, but entering, found\nThat briers and thorns did on all sides abound;\nAnd that, though he was safe, yet he never could stir,\nBut his sides they would wound, or would tear off his fur:\nHe shrugg'd up his shoulders, but would not complain:\n\"To repine at small evils,\" quoth puss, \"is in vain:\nThat no bliss can be perfect, I very well knew--\nBut from the same source good and evil doth flow--\nAnd full sorely my skin though these briers may rend,\nYet they keep off the dogs, and my life will defend:\nFor the sake of the good, then, let evil be borne--\nFor each sweet has its bitter, each bramble its thorn.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HORSE AND THE STAG.\n\n\nWithin a certain pasture,\n  There lived some creatures wild.\nThe sky was blue, the grass was green,\n  The air was very mild.\n\nNow though this field was large and fine,\n  They could not live in love:\nBut for the grass in one large spot\n  A horse and stag once strove.\n\nThe stag was strongest in the strife,\n  And so the battle won;\nAnd from the field the horse was sent\n  And with chagrin was stung.\n\nSo to the man the horse applied,\n  For help, the stag to beat,\nAnd so effectual was his help,\n  The stag had to retreat.\n\nBut when to go away he tried,\n  The man held to him fast:\n\"Now that you are of use,\" he cried,\n  \"You'll serve me to the last.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CAT AND THE OLD MOUSE.\n\n\nThe mice o'errun a certain house--\nIn every spot was found a mouse.\nSo for a cat the mistress went,\nAnd to the kitchen puss was sent.\n\nWith diligence were many caught,\nAnd eaten up. The mice were taught\nThat they some cunning must devise\nTo keep the prey from pussy's eyes.\n\nSo on a certain shelf so high,\nTo reach which puss in vain might try,\nThere all the mice together got,\nAnd they resolved to leave it not.\n\nSo pussy found that to eat them,\nShe must resort to stratagem.\nAnd holding fast by means of pegs,\nShe hung suspended by the legs.\n\nAnd downward she then hung her head,\nAnd looked as though she were quite dead--\nAnd thus she sought to cheat the mice,\nAnd from their dwellings them entice.\n\nA cunning mouse, well \"up to trap,\"\nOn pussy her two eyes did clap.\n\"Aha!\" she cried, \"puss are you there?\nWithin your reach, I would not dare--\nNot e'en though it were proved by law,\nThat your whole skin were stuffed with straw.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE VIZOR MASK.\n\n\nA fox while walking out one day,\nInto a toy shop chanced to stray;\nAmong the toys that stood arrayed,\nA vizor mask was there displayed,\nWith rosy cheeks, complexion fair,\nAnd ruby lips and auburn hair,\nAnd eyes of blue, and Grecian nose;\nAnd many beauties to disclose,\nIt seemed made. The fox, with sighs,\nGazed on. \"Ah, ah!\" he cries,\n\"Look at this head it naught contains,\nIt has rare beauty, but no brains.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThe accomplished beau, in air and mien how blest.\nHis hat well fashioned, and his hair well dress'd--\nBut still undress'd within: to give him brains\nExceeds his hatter's or his barber's pains.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE GOOSE THAT LAID GOLDEN\nEGGS.\n\n\nA man once had a goose I'm told,\nWhich had laid each day an egg of gold.\nNow if this treasure were well spent,\nIt might make any one content.\nBut no! this man desired more;\nAnd though of eggs he had rich store;\nHe thought one day the goose he'd kill,\nAnd then at once his pockets fill.\nSo chasing goosey round and round,\nShe soon was caught and firmly bound\nHe opened her from neck to tail\nAnd then his folly did bewail.\nFor not a single egg was there,\nAnd thus he lost this treasure rare.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE GRAPES.\n\n\nA fox once took it in his pate,\nTo go beyond a garden gate,\nTo see if there grew on the trees,\nSome food his hunger to appease.\nSo in he went and there he spied\nSome grapes. To reach them hard he tried.\nNow they were large and luscious too,\nQuite purple, and beautiful to view.\nSo up he jumps with many a bound,\nUntil exhausted to the ground,\nHe falls. The grapes hang o'er his head,\nIn clusters large, \"Well! well!\" he said,\n\"You are but green, and hard as stone,\nAnd all my time away is thrown.\nI'll leave you to your solitude,\nYou are not fit to make me food.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MOUSE AND THE WEASEL.\n\n\nA very thin and hungry mouse,\n  Into a granary stole,\nWhere stood a basket full of grain,\n  In which was a small hole.\n\nAfter much squeezing he got in,\n  And there he ate his fill;\nBut when he tried to issue out,\n  The hole seemed smaller still.\n\nA weasel who stood looking on,\n  Cried out in sneering tone,\n\"You can't come out, my little dear,\n  Until you've smaller grown.\n\n\"You were half-starved when you crept in,\n  And now you are quite stout;\nSo cease to eat until you can,\n  As you got in, get out.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MISER AND HIS TREASURE.\n\n\n  In a retired spot,\n  A miser had got\nA very large treasure in store.\n  And it was his delight,\n  Each morn and each night,\nTo count it and add to it more.\n\n  He had made the hole deep,\n  And he thought none would peep,\nTo find out his secret retreat.\n  But a servant so sly,\n  His master did spy,\nAnd thought that his cunning he'd beat.\n\n  So one dark winter night,\n  He took out his light,\nAnd to the field hastened away;\n  And he laughed in his sleeve,\n  To think how 'twould grieve\nHis master to miss it next day.\n\n  And indeed the distress\n  Of his lord you may guess,\nFor words can't describe it, I'm sure.\n  He tore out his hair,\n  Clasp'd his hands in despair\nAnd cried he was ruined and poor.\n\n  A man passing by,\n  His grief chanced to spy;\nAnd told him, \"'tis useless to mourn.\n  You can look at the hole,\n  To solace your soul,\nAlthough all the money is gone.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE JACKDAW AND THE PEACOCKS.\n\n\nThus Esop has the folly shown,\nTo build on merits not your own.\n\nA jackdaw, empty, pert and vain,\nWho held his equals in disdain,\nOne day some beauteous feathers found,\nLeft by a peacock on the ground.\nWhen in the gaudy plumage dress'd,\nThe shallow thing his fortune bless'd;\nWith stately gesture strode along,\nAnd boldly join'd the peacock throng;\nWho, his impertinence to pay,\nFirst stripp'd him, and then chas'd away.\nThe crest-fall'n coxcomb homeward sneaks,\nAnd his forsaken comrades seeks;\nWhere'er he comes, with scorn they leave him,\nAnd not a jackdaw will receive him.\nSays one he had disdain'd, at last,\n\"Such as thou art, thou mightst have pass'd,\nAnd hadst not now been cast behind,\nThe scorn and scandal of thy kind.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SPARROW AND THE HARE.\n\n\nWho dares another's ills deride,\nHad best against his own provide.\nAn eagle pouncing on a hare,\nWith piercing cries puss rends the air;\nWhen a pert sparrow from a tree,\nInsulted thus her misery:\n\"Ho, ho! poor puss, thy boasted speed\nHas failed thee, then, in time of need!\"\nScarce had she spoke, when, like an arrow,\nA vulture darted on the sparrow.\nEre the poor hare resign'd her breath,\n\"This sight,\" she cried, \"consoles in death\n--That thou, who hast my woes derided,\nMy last of miseries hast divided!\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ASS AND THE LION.\n\n\nVain boasters credit may surprise,\nTill known; who knows them will despise.\n\nA lion once a hunting took\nAn ass, and hid him in a nook.\nTo drive the forest made him bray,\nThat he might seize the passing prey.\nLong-ears set up such horrid cries,\nThat every creature trembling flies;\nThe lion, practised in his trade,\nHad soon abundant carnage made;\nSatiate with spoil, the ass he calls,\nAnd bid him cease his hideous brawls.\nThe king he found with slaughter weary,\nSurrounded by his noble quarry,\nAnd, puffed with self-importance, said:\n\"Sir, to some purpose I have bray'd!\"\n\"No ass more famously could do,\"\nThe lion says, \"but thee I knew,\nOr I might have been frightened too.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE STAG AND THE FOUNTAIN.\n\n\nThat good from bad men rarely know,\nThis apologue may serve to show:\n\nA stag upon a fountain's side,\nBeheld his branching horns with pride;\nWhile of his spindle-shanks asham'd,\nTheir disproportioned form he blam'd.\nSudden he hears the hunter's cries,\nAnd to the forest nimbly flies.\nThe woods receive their well-known guest.\nHis tangled horns, his feet arrest;\nThe hounds approach, and seize their prey;\nWho, dying, thus was heard to say:\n\"Wretch that I am! too late I learn,\nHow little we the truth discern!\nWhat would have saved me, I despis'd,\nAnd what has been my ruin, priz'd!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE EAGLE, THE CAT, AND THE\nSOW.\n\n\nHer nest on high an eagle made\nLower a cat her kittens laid;\nAnd at the bottom of the tree\nA sow dispos'd her progeny.\nVile puss to gain her wicked ends,\nMuch love for both of them pretends.\nFirst to the eagle's aerie mounts,\nAnd thus to her false alarms recounts:\n\"Madam, in truth our dangerous state,\n'Tis with reluctance I relate;\nBut things are really gone so far,\nConceal them I no longer dare.\nNight after night the treacherous sow\nOur tree has undermined below;\nEre long it cannot choose but fall,\nAnd then she hopes to eat us all.\"\nSuccessful when she saw her lies,\nDown to the bristly sow she hies;\n\"My worthy neighbor!\" crying out,\n\"I pray you, mind what you're about,\nFor to a certainty I know,\nThe eagle waits but till you go,\n(The thing with great concern I say,)\nTo make your little ones her prey.\"\nSuspicious dread when thus inspir'd,\nPuss to her hole all day retir'd;\nStealing at night on silent paw,\nTo stuff her own and kittens' maw.\nTo stir nor sow nor eagle dare.\nWhat more? fell hunger ends their care;\nAnd long the mischief-making beast\nWith her base brood on carrion feast.\n\nLearn hence, ye simples, ere too late,\nWhat ills the double-tongued create.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE EAGLE, THE RAVEN AND\nTHE TORTOISE.\n\n\nWho in their foe united find\nForce, art, and a remorseless mind,\nWhate'er their strength and prowess be,\nTo perish stand in jeopardy.\n\nAn eagle once a tortoise held,\nSafe in his horny house concealed,\nWhich he in vain essayed to break\nWith all the fury of his beak.\nAs with his prey he wing'd the air,\nA wily raven ventur'd near:\n\"Your prize is excellent,\" says she,\n\"And if you'll give a share to me,\nI know, for all his iron hide,\nHow we the dainty may divide.\"\nThe bargain made, \"On yonder wall,\nDown,\" says the raven, \"let him fall.\"\nHe listen'd to the hoary sinner;\nAnd they on turtle made their dinner.\n\nThus fraud and force their purpose gain,\nAnd nature fortifies in vain.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FLY AND THE HORSE.\n\n\nA fly upon a coach-box seated,\nWith arrogance the horses rated.\n\"Advance!\" cries out the paltry thing,\n\"Unless you mean to feel my sting.\"\n\"Not thee we heed,\" a horse replied,\n\"But him whose skilful hand can guide\nThe rein and whip. We better know\nThan thee when we should stop or go.\"\n\nThus men without or sense or weight,\nThink themselves born to rule the state.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nESOP AT PLAY.\n\n\nWhen an Athenian Esop saw,\nPlaying with school-boys once at taw,\nThe man with laughter shook his sides;\nEsop the laughter thus derides:\n\"Of this slack bow before you laid,\nThe meaning, sprightly sir,\" he said,\n\"Explain!\" (A crowd had gather'd round.)\nSurpris'd, the man no answer found:\nHe puzzled long, but all his wit\nCould on no explanation hit.\nThe laugh on Esop's side; says he,\n\"Why you this bow unbended see,\nIt is because it needs must break,\nIf always bent; so we must take\nDue relaxation, that the mind\nIts vigor may when wanted find.\"\n\nHe who in harmless sport employs\nA vacant hour, is not unwise.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE OLD PILOT AND THE SAILORS.\n\n\nTo one complaining of his fate,\nEsop this fable did relate.\n\nA ship by raging tempests toss'd,\nThe seamen, giving all for lost,\n'Twas who should weep and pray the most.\nGrown calm at once the sky and sea,\nThey shout in joyful extacy.\nThe pilot, from experience wise,\nThe giddy crew did thus advise:\n\"Nor much rejoice, nor over grieve,\nBut decently what comes receive;\nSince good and ill succeed so near,\nMeet ill with hope and good with fear.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CRAB AND HER DAUGHTER.\n\n\nNot what they hear, but what they see,\nWill children and domestics be.\n\nA crab one day her daughter chid;\n\"You never do as you are bid,\nHave I not told you o'er and o'er,\nThat awkward gait to use no more?\nLearn, ninny, once for all to know,\nFolks forward and not backward go.\"\n\"Mamma,\" says Miss, \"how strange you talk!\nHave I not learn'd from you to walk?\nWere I to move the other way,\nHow could I follow you I pray?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SUN AND THE WIND.\n\n\nPhebus and Boreas from on high\nUpon the road a traveller spy,\nWearing a cloak for fear of rain.\nSays Boreas, \"his precaution's vain\n'Gainst me, I'll show you for a joke\nHow soon I'll make him quit his cloak.\"\n\"Come on,\" says Phebus, \"let us see\nWho best succeeds, or you or me.\"\nThe wind to blow so fierce began,\nHe almost had upset his man;\nBut still his cloak, for all his roar,\nWas wrapp'd more closely than before.\nWhen Boreas what he could had done,\n\"Now for my trial,\" says the Sun,\nAnd with his beams so warm'd the air,\nThe man his mantle could not bear,\nBut open'd first, then threw aside.\n\nLearn hence, unbending sons of pride\nPersuasive manners will prevail,\nWhen menaces and bluster fail.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TWO POTS.\n\n\nForc'd on a stream to make their way,\nTo pot of brass says pot of clay:\n\"Since brass is stout and clay is frail,\nPray let us at a distance sail.\nNot your intention that I fear\nSir Brass,\" adds humble Earthenware,\n\"While the winds leave you to yourself;\nBut woe betide my ribs of delf,\nIf it should dash our sides together;\nFor mine would be the damage, whether\nTheir force should you or I impel;\nTo pray proceed, and fare you well.\"\n\nLearn hence, ye folks of low estate,\nTo keep due distance from the great.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHERCULES AND THE CARTER.\n\n\nHis cart bemired, a carter pray'd\nTo Hercules to come and aid.\n\"Up!\" says the God, \"thou lazy dog.\nAnd lift the axle from the bog;\nThink'st thou Gods nothing have to do\nBut listen to such knaves as you?\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER.\n\n\nFrom a wise emmet, well sustain'd\nOn what her industry had gain'd,\nA grasshopper some aid desir'd.\n\"What was his trade?\" the ant inquir'd.\n\"I've none,\" the grasshopper replied;\n\"I range the country far and wide,\nSinging all day from door to door,\nAnd have no time to form a store.\"\nShutting her granaries, says the ant,\n\"No wonder, friend, you are in want;\nHe who all summer sings, may chance\nIn winter to be forc'd to dance.\"\n\nTo spend his time in idle song,\nThe thoughtless grasshopper was wrong;\nAnd not to give a small supply,\nThe emmet mean and niggardly.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CROW AND THE PITCHER.\n\n\nPatience and ingenuity\nThe want of natural means supply.\n\nA thirsty crow some water found,\nBut in a vessel so profound,\nThat with her neck at utmost stretch,\nA single drop she could not reach.\nThen stones she in the pitcher places,\nWhich to the top the water raises;\nAnd by this innocent device\nHer thirst at leisure satisfies.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ANGLER AND THE LITTLE\nFISH.\n\n\nAn angler a small salmon caught,\nWho with much earnestness besought\nThat he would let her go: says she,\n\"What can you do with such as me!\nNext year when grown a little bigger,\nI in your bag might make a figure.\"\nThe prudent man replied, \"No, no;\nInto my pouch, though small, you go.\nA bird in hand is better far,\nThan two that in the bushes are.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FROG AND THE FOX.\n\n\nLet us our own defects amend,\nEre to guide others we pretend.\n\nA sallow, wrinkl'd, spotted frog,\nTo turn physician left the bog.\n\"He every malady could cure,\"\nHe said, \"that animals endure.\"\n\"First on yourself your science show,\"\nSays Reynard: \"that the world may know\nYour skill and knowledge, pray begin\nOf those foul spots to clear your skin:\nFor while you look so sick and pale,\nTo vend your drugs you'll ne'er prevail.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE APE AND HER YOUNG ONES.\n\n\nAn ape had cubs; one much she lov'd,\nThe other small affection prov'd.\nAlarm'd, she hears the hunter's cries;\nAnd catching up her darling flies:\nThrough fear she stumbled o'er some stones\nAnd broke the little favorite's bones;\nThe other to her back who clung\nUninjured went with her along.\n\nMothers, beware! the fondl'd child\nBy too much tenderness is spoil'd;\nWhile those who hardships have endur'd,\nTo suffer life are best inur'd.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FIR TREE AND THE THORN.\n\n\nThe lowly and contented state\nIs farthest from the wounds of fate.\n\nA fir tree upon a humble thorn\nFrom his high top look'd down with scorn.\n\"For loftiest fanes we grow,\" she said,\n\"Of us the tallest masts are made,\nWhile thou, poor bramble, canst produce\nNothing of ornament or use.\"\n\"Great tree,\" the modest thorn replied,\n\"When the sharp axe shall pierce your side,\nIn vain you then may wish to be\nUnsought-for, and unknown like me.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN.\n\n\nFools may on other fools impose;\nThe sage their real value knows.\n\nAn ass once found a lion's skin,\nAnd rolling up himself therein,\nFrom every fold that he came nigh,\nMade flocks, and herds, and shepherds fly.\nRanging the country round, at last\nHe meets his master where he pass'd,\nWho long-ears instantly descries\nThrough his magnificent disguise:\nLaying his cudgel on his side,\n\"Get home, thou stupid fool,\" he cried:\n\"With others for a lion pass;\nI know thee for an arrant ass.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE DOG IN THE MANGER.\n\n\nA mastiff in a stable lay,\nCouch'd on a manger full of hay.\nWhen any thing drew near to eat,\nHe quickly forced it to retreat.\nAn ox then cried, \"detested creature,\nHow vile is thy malignant nature,\nWhich will not others let enjoy\nThat which thou never canst employ!\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE STAG AND THE VINE.\n\n\nA stag pursued with horn and hound\nIn a thick vineyard shelter found.\nSoon as he thought the danger past,\nHe on the vine began to feast.\nThe huntsman hears the rustling noise,\nAnd through half-eaten leaves descries\nHis branching horns, the pack recalls,\nAnd merited the creature falls\nTo his ingratitude a prey.\n\nThose their protectors who betray,\nUnpitying, all the world will see\nConsign'd to death and infamy.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MISCHIEVOUS DOG.\n\n\nTitles and ribands, bought with shame,\nFolly and vice but more proclaim.\nA man who own'd a vicious dog,\nUpon his collar fix'd a log,\nWhich the vain cur supposed to be\nA note of worth and dignity.\nA mastiff saw his foolish pride;\n\"Puppy,\" indignantly he cried,\n\"That thing is put about your neck\nYour mischievous designs to check;\nAnd to who see you to declare,\nOf what a currish race you are.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SICK MAN AND THE PHYSICIAN.\n\n\nWoe to the land where those who guide,\nTo please the people's foolish pride,\nPersuade them there is nought to dread,\nWhen ruin threatens o'er their head.\n\nA patient, ask'd to tell his pains,\nOf thirst and shivering cold complains.\n\"'Tis very good,\" the doctor said;\n\"He has but to remain in bed,\nAnd take the med'cines I shall send,\nThe thing will soon be at an end.\"\nWhen next the question was repeated,\nThe man complain'd he much was heated;\n\"This,\" cried the leech, \"is better still!\"\nAnd thus to each increasing ill,\n\"That it was going well,\" he cried,\nTill the poor martyr sunk and died.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FARMER AND HIS SONS.\n\n\nWork, work, my boys, with hand and mind!\nYour labors you will fruitful find.\n\nA husbandman, about to die,\nCall'd on his children to come nigh:\n\"I leave,\" he says, \"a small estate,\nBut wherewithal to make it great:\nFor know, a treasure it contains,\nIf you to search will take the pains.\"\nHe died. The sons dug all the ground,\nAnd there no hidden treasure found;\nBut so productive was the soil,\nThe crop by far o'erpaid the toil.\nSays one, when they the corn had sold,\n\"This treasure 'twas our sire foretold!\"\n\n[Illustration:]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SWALLOW AND THE BIRDS.\n\n\nThose who of guides stand most in need,\nAre least inclin'd advice to heed.\n\nA travell'd swallow, learn'd and wise,\nTo all his feather'd neighbors cries:\n\"See you yon laborers there below;\nWhat is it, think ye, that they sow?\n'Tis hemp, my friends; of which are made\nThe nets that for us all are laid;\nThe moment yonder men are gone,\nThen pick the seeds up one by one.\"\nThe gay inhabitants of air\nFor his precaution little care.\nThe seedling sprung; again the swallow\nUrges his good advice to follow;\nAgain his counsel they deride.\nThe plants full grown, and cut, and dried,\nBeaten and spun, the nets were made,\nAnd the unwary birds betray'd,\nRegretting, in their hapless fate,\nTheir incredulity too late.\n\nLearn hence the danger to foresee,\nNor wait for their maturity.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BOASTING TRAVELLER.\n\n\nA fellow who abroad had been,\nTold marvels he had done and seen:\n\"When resident at Rhodes,\" he said,\n\"A leap of twenty yards he made\nOver a barrier ten feet high;\nA dozen witnesses were by.\"\n\"Come on,\" says one, at the same table,\n\"Yon ditch and fence to o'erleap you're able.\nThey're not, by much, so high or wide;\nHere let the experiment be tried.\nSuppose yourself at Rhodes, and we\nYour faithful witnesses will be.\"\nThe man replied, \"that he to-day\nWas not quite well,\" and stole away.\n\nWho boast of what they cannot do\nBoth knavery and folly show.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE OLD WOMAN AND HER MAIDS.\n\n\nBetter known evils to endure,\nThan seek by wrong a doubtful cure.\n\nA thrifty dame her maids awoke\nAt the first crowing of the cock.\nThey of such early rising tir'd,\nTo kill the harmless cock conspir'd.\nThe dame, to hear him crow in wait,\nNext morning lay in bed till eight.\nBut when she knew the trick they had play'd,\nShe caused a larum to be made,\nAnd rung it daily in their ears\nTwo hours before the dawn appears.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nINDUSTRY AND SLOTH.\n\n\nInsidious sloth her object gains,\nIf but a hearing she obtains.\n\nA youth ask'd why so long in bed?\n\"I listen to a cause,\" he said;\n\"As soon as I unclose my eyes.\nFirst industry excites to rise.\"\n\"Up, up,\" she says, \"to meet the sun,\nYour task of yesterday's undone!\"\n\"Lie still,\" cries sloth, \"it is not warm,\nAn hour's more sleep can do no harm;\nYou will have time your work to do,\nAnd leisure for amusement too.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SHEPHERD TURNED MERCHANT.\n\n\nFair weather sailors, keep at home,\nFor be assur'd the storm will come.\n\nA shepherd of an inland breed\nBrought to the coast his flocks to feed;\nThe beauty of a summer sea,\nA merchant tempted him to be.\nHe sold his sheep, and with the sale\nPurchas'd of dates an ample bale.\nHe sail'd; a furious tempest rose;\nInto the sea his dates he throws;\nAnd swimming from the bark to land,\nArrives half dead upon the strand.\nTo one, soon afterwards who stood\nPleas'd with the calmness of the flood,\n\"Aye, aye,\" the simple shepherd said\n\"With dates again it would be fed.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SPENDTHRIFT AND THE\nSWALLOW.\n\n\nA fool who all had thrown away,\nWhen wandering pennyless one day,\nPerceived a swallow. \"Ho,\" says he,\n\"Summer is come at last I see!\"\nAnd to a Jew his mantle sold.\nNext day it was severely cold:\nStarv'd as he walk'd, the bird he found\nFrozen to death upon the ground.\n\"Ah! what a fool was I,\" he cried,\n\"When on one swallow I relied!\"\n\nThose who too readily believe,\nFor their credulity may grieve.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE EAGLE AND THE CROW.\n\n\nThe wise well know their force to weigh,\nNor what they cannot do, essay.\n\nA carrion crow an eagle saw\nSeize on a lamb with beak and claw.\nConceiving he could better do,\nHe pounces on a well fed ewe;\nBut he and not the sheep was caught;\nFor when to fly with it he sought,\nHis feet entangled in the wool,\nThe shepherd seiz'd the helpless fool.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE SHEPHERD'S\nBOY.\n\n\nIn wantonness a shepherd's boy\nAlarm'd the neighbor's with his cry;\n\"The wolf! the wolf!\" And when they came,\nOf their lost labor made his game.\nAt last the wolf when there indeed,\nHis real cries they did not heed;\nHe and his flock a prey were made,\nAnd for his lies he dearly paid.\n\nThose who are known to have deceiv'd,\nWhen they speak truth, are not believ'd.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.\n\n\nFashions and modes we often see,\nMade to conceal deformity:\nThose to whom nature has been kind,\nShould leave such fopperies behind.\n\nA fox who in a trap was taken,\nResign'd his brush to save his bacon.\nAshamed that all the world should know\nHis cunning had been cheated so,\nTo an assembly of the nation\nHe made the following oration:\n\"I oft have thought the tails we wear\nA troublesome appendage are;\nWhere's their utility, I pray?\nThey serve but to obstruct our way.\nNor ornamental do I find,\nTo drag this ponderous length behind.\nFor my part, without more debate,\nI move our tails we amputate.\"\n\"Please, sir, to show yourself behind,\"\n(Says one to smoke the jest inclin'd,\nAnd who discovered what it was)\n\"We there perhaps shall see the cause,\nEre we your prudent counsel take,\nWhy you this curious motion make?\"\nHis bare posteriors when they found,\nLoud laughter shook the benches round;\nNor could the fox without a tail\nTo introduce the mode prevail.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MEN AND THE OYSTER.\n\n\nAny partition better make,\nThan _all_ the hungry law should take.\n\nBy the sea side two travellers found\nA fine large oyster on the ground;\nHis claim each obstinately lays:\n\"I saw it first,\" one eager says;\n\"I pick'd it up,\" the other cries;\n\"Mine\"--\"Mine is certainly the prize.\"\nThey talk'd as usual, loud and long;\nAnd more they reason'd, more were wrong;\nTill they a neighboring lawyer see\nPassing, and mutually agree\nTo take him for their referee.\nWith legal dignity of face,\nHe heard them both relate the case;\n\"Your claims are good,\" then gravely said,\n\"And a brave lawsuit would have made\nWhich to prefer I cannot tell,\nSo each of you must take a shell;\nAnd, as the oyster is but one,\nThat I myself will swallow down;\nTo stink it otherwise had lain,\nAnd all your cash been spent in vain;\nYou're cheaply off; go home content;\nAnd faith the fish was excellent.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG.\n\n\nA dog his master so deceiv'd,\nHe was the best of curs believ'd.\nThe flock was trusted to his care,\nWhene'er the shepherd was not there.\nAnd in the house, a favored guest,\nHe always fed upon the best.\nThe treacherous guard his charge betray'd\nAnd on the sheep in secret prey'd.\nThe master, when the crime was prov'd,\nWith double indignation mov'd,\nAbout his neck the halter tied\nHimself: the dog for mercy cried;\n\"You let the wolf escape,\" he said,\n\"Who much more slaughter oft has made.\"\n\"Wretch!\" says the man, \"the wolf declares\nHostility, and boldly dares;\nHe has no confidence abused:\nBut, coward, thou my trust hast used:\nAgainst myself! and on this tree\nWithout delay shalt hanged be.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COUNTRYMAN AND THE\nJUSTICE.\n\n\nThe law still lends the readiest aid,\nWhen well her ministers are paid.\n\nA countryman, by power oppress'd,\nSeeking to have his wrongs redress'd,\nOft to the justice went in vain;\nAdmittance he could ne'er obtain,\nBut still was bid again to come;\n\"Unwell\"--\"engag'd\"--or \"not home!\"\nThe wily rustic took a kid\nOne day, and in a basket hid;\nAnd when he to the house drew near,\nBegan to pinch him by the ear,\nSo that the porter, from the hall,\nMight hear the little fatling squall;\nThe man his master's mind who knew,\nOpen'd the door and let him through.\nThe shepherd, laughing as he pass'd,\nSays to his kid, \"Thy cries at last\nAn audience for my wrongs obtain;\nThy flesh, perhaps, redress will gain.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COCK AND THE FOX.\n\n\nThe world applauds the lucky hit,\nWhen it beholds the biter bit.\n\nA treach'rous fox invited down\nA cock, who on a tree had flown.\n\"Do you not know, my friend,\" says he,\n\"Bird, beast, fish, reptile, man agree,\nTo live henceforth in amity?\nCome down and celebrate the day.\"\n\"Troth,\" quoth the cock, \"you truly say;\nFor hounds I see come o'er the dell,\nWith open mouths, the news to tell.\"\n\"Adieu,\" says Ren. \"'Tis best to go;\nThose dogs the treaty may not know.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BLIND MAN AND THE LAME.\n\n\nWho kind assistance give and take,\nLife's arduous journey best will make.\n\nTwo men, one blind, the other lame,\nTo pass a ford together came.\nThe stream was rapid, and the way\nObliquely thwart the current lay;\nTo his companion says the blind,\n\"Yon winding road I ne'er shall find.\"\n\"Nor my poor limbs,\" the lame replied,\n\"The current's rapid force abide.\"\n\"Come,\" says the blind, \"my loins are strong,\nI'll bear you on my back along,\nWhile you to guide me give the word;\"\nAnd thus they safely cross'd the ford.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MAN AND THE SERPENT.\n\n\nThere's in the world a cursed race,\nOf nature so perverse and base,\nIf from the gallows you should save,\nA dangerous enemy you have.\n\nA countryman a serpent found,\nStiffen'd with frost upon the ground,\nAnd took her home; but when the fire\nBegan new vigor to inspire,\nSwelling her neck with angry eyes,\nShe fills the cot with hissing cries.\nThe rustic then his axe did take,\n\"Is this then the return you make?\nIs this your gratitude?\" he said,\nAnd knock'd the reptile on the head.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TWO STREAMS.\n\n\nThose who display much dash and din,\nHave seldom any thing within.\n\nA weary traveller, one day,\nCross'd o'er a river in his way;\nAlarm'd to see the foaming tide\nDashing o'er rocks from side to side,\nNevertheless, his course to keep,\nHe ventur'd in with trembling step;\nAnd found the water neither deep,\nNor footing bad; and got well o'er.\nWhen he had travell'd some leagues more,\nHe to another river came,\nThat smoothly flowed, a silent stream:\nThis he thought easily to pass;\nBut ere he in the middle was,\nHe plunged into a gulf profound,\nAnd for his feet no bottom found;\nBut, forced to swim with all his might,\nGot to the shore in piteous plight.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SOT AND HIS WIFE.\n\n\nInveterate sin is seldom cur'd.\n\nA wife had long a sot endur'd,\nWho all his time in taverns spent,\nWhile his affairs in ruin went.\nOnce as insensible he lay,\nShe dress'd him in a corpse's array,\nAnd with the undertaker's aid,\nInto a burying vault convey'd.\nThe fumes dispersed, the man awakes;\nAll for reality he takes.\nWhen by the glimmering of a lamp\nHe saw his mansion drear and damp,\nReflecting how his life had pass'd,\nA forced repentance came at last.\nThe wife, with suited voice and dress,\nPresented an infernal mess:\n\"Good Trap, pray take away your meat;\nI have no appetite to eat,\"\nHe cried, \"but faith I'm devilish dry:\nCan't you a bowl of wine supply?\"\nThe woman, seeing all was vain,\nRestor'd him to his casks again:\nConsol'd with certainty, that he\nEre long a real corpse must be.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FARMER AND HIS QUARRELSOME\nSONS.\n\n\nThree sons an honest farmer had;\nAnd it so happen'd, ne'er a lad\nCould with the other two agree;\nAll quarrelling perpetually.\nTheir time in idle contest spent,\nGarden and farm to ruin went;\nAnd the good farmer and his wife\nLed but a miserable life.\nOne day as this unhappy sire\nSat musing by his evening fire,\nHe saw some twigs in bundles stand,\nTied for the basket-maker's hand.\nTaking up one: \"My boys,\" says he,\n\"Which is the strongest, let me see;\nHe who this bundle breaks in twain,\nThe preference, and this prize shall gain,\"\n(Showing a pair of Sunday shoes.)\nThe rivals every effort use\nIn vain. Their utmost force when tried,\nThe father took the twigs untied,\nAnd giving to them one by one,\nThe work immediately was done.\n\"Yon twigs,\" he says, \"that broken lie,\nThis useful lesson may supply:\nThat those in amity who live,\nAnd succor to each other give,\nDouble their forces to resist\nOppression, and their work assist.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FIG TREE AND THE FLOWERING\nSHRUB.\n\n\nFlowers which many leaves display,\nIn fruitless beauty fade away.\n\nCries one of these, with saucy sneer,\nTo a plain fig-tree growing near,\n\"How comes it, honest friend, that thou\nDost in the spring no blossoms show?\"\nSays he, \"I keep them out of view,\nFor fear I should resemble you,\nAnd in the autumn nought produce\nOf permanence and solid use.\"\n\nWho soon and much essay to shine,\nMay dread a premature decline.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FARMER AND THE LANDLORD.\n\n\nA farmer of an honest fame,\nOne morning to his landlord came:\n\"Alas, my lord,\" he weeping said,\n\"Gored by my bull, your ox is dead.\nWhat must be done?\" \"The case is plain,\"\nReplies the lord; \"the creature slain,\nThe owner of the bull must pay;\nLet it be done without delay.\"\n\"Heav'n give your worship long to live!\nI hope you will a good one give,\nFor mine was good!\" \"How! your's, my friend?\nLet me your story comprehend:\nYour bull, you say, my ox has gored?\"\n\"Forgive me the mistake, my lord,\nIn my confusion I have made;\nMine was the ox that must be paid;\nBut 'tis all one--what's just for me\nThe same must for your worship be:\nI'll tell the steward what you say.\"\n\"Not yet--we'll think of it to-day.\nFurther inquiry must be had;\nPerhaps your fences were but bad;\nPerhaps--but come again to-morrow.\"\nThe honest laborer saw with sorrow,\nThat justice wears a different face,\nWhen for themselves men put the case.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SCHOOL-BOY AND THE\nMONITOR.\n\n\nAt play on Thames's verdant side\nA school boy fell into the tide,\nWhere providentially there stood\nA willow, bending o'er the flood.\nBuoy'd on its branch, he floating lay,\nThe monitor pass'd by that way.\nThe lad entreats his life to save:\nThe Don replies with aspect grave,\n\"Sirrah, what business had you there?\nHow vain is all our watchful care!\nYou never heed a word we say;\nYour disobedience you shall pay!\"\n\"First,\" says the boy, \"pray stretch your hand:\nI'll hear you when I come to land.\"\n\nThis is for those, with vain parade\nWho give advice, instead of aid.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MILLER AND HIS ASS.\n\n\nA rustic bringing to the fair\nAn ass, that he might show him there,\nSleek and well looking let him trot;\nHe followed with his son on foot.\nThe first they met upon the road,\nAt our pedestrians laugh'd loud,\n\"Look at those two legged asses,\" cried,\n\"Who trudge on foot when they might ride!\"\nThe father with the hint complies:\nMakes the boy mount. Now other cries\nAssail their ears; by graybeards blam'd;\n\"Sirrah, you ought to be asham'd\nTo ride and let your father walk!\"\nAgain he listened to their talk.\nThe sire got up, the youth got down;\nWhen passing through a country town,\nAt every door the mothers said,\n\"A murrain light on thy old head!\nHast thou no bowels for thy kind?\nAt least take up the lad behind.\"\nThis done they next were thus address'd:\n\"Two lubbers on a little beast?\nThey fitter are to carry him!\"\nComplying with this senseless whim,\nUpon a pole his feet in air,\nThe ass they on their shoulders bear.\nNow laughing shouts spread far and wide.\nThe ass's ligatures untied,\n\"Proceed, my son,\" then said the man:\n\"To please the world, do all we can,\nSince 'tis impossible, you see,\nTo please ourselves content we'll be.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE DREAMER AND HIS SON.\n\n\nMortals bring down upon their head\nThe very miseries most they dread.\n\nThe only son of a rich knight\nIn hunting daily took delight.\nThe father living in alarm,\nLest he should come to any harm,\nDream'd that he saw him on the ground,\nRent with the lion's fatal wound.\nThe youth, allow'd to hunt no more,\nImpatiently confinement bore.\nRemarking, one unlucky day,\nIn the fine chamber where he lay,\nA lion painted on the wall,\n\"Thou art,\" he cried, \"the cause of all.\"\nWith idle rage the wall he struck,\nAnd in his hand an iron stuck,\nWhich piercing bones and sinews through,\nFester'd and then a gangrene grew.\nAnd thus the father's ill-tim'd care\nDeprived him of his son and heir.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE OLD MAN AND DEATH.\n\n\nThough life be welcome to the wise,\nDeath cannot take him by surprise;\nAware that every day and hour\nHe holds but at the tyrant's power,\nThat beauty, talents, worth, are vain.\nA moment's respite to obtain.\nNothing more known, and yet how rare\nIt is with courage to prepare\nFor this inevitable day!\nAll hope a little more delay.\n\nOne who had suffer'd many a year,\nAnd to a century drew near,\nAt last complain'd, that unawares\nDeath came, unsettled his affairs:\n\"My will is not completely made;\nA little time,\" he trembling said,\n\"A little longer let me live;\nSome warning 'tis but fair to give!\nMy grandson is expected home;\nAt least pray, let the doctor come.\"\n\"Poor helpless driveller!\" Death replied,\n\"Ten years ago thou should'st have died!\nThy friends, thy foes, thyself outliv'd:\nAlmost an age thou hast surviv'd:\nSome who their day had scarce begun.\nOthers beneath their noon-tide sun--\nTime's deepest lines engrave thy brow,\nAnd dost thou hesitate to go?\nIdiot, what warning would'st thou have?\nOne foot already in the grave:\nSight, hearing, feeling, day by day,\nSunk gradual in a long decay.\nI blame myself for my neglect;\nThou'st not a moment to expect!\"\n\nWhen failing nature warns, the sage\nSees death a refuge from old age;\nAnd rising from life's lengthened feast,\nWilling retires, a sated guest.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE PAINTER.\n\n\nWhen candid critics deign to blame\nTheir index points the road to fame,\nBut when dull fools your works admire,\nThrow them at once into the fire.\n\nIn Rome there dwelt, in days of yore,\nA painter deep in graphic lore.\nHis touch was firm, his outline true,\nAnd every rule full well he knew.\nA Mars he painted, meant to show\nHow far his learned skill could go.\nThe work complete, he call'd a friend,\nOn whose good taste he could depend.\nThe friend was honest, spoke his thought,\nAnd fairly pointed out the fault,\n\"That overwork'd in every part,\nIt show'd too much laborious art.\"\nThe painter argued for his rules,\nAnd cited maxims from the schools;\nStill the judicious critic held\nThe labor should be more conceal'd.\nWhile they disputed on his stricture,\nA coxcomb came to see the picture:\nEntering, he cries, \"Good heavens, how fine!\nThe piece, I swear, is quite divine!\nThe sword, the knot, the belt, the leather,\nThe steel, the gold, the silk, the feather,\nAre perfect nature, all together!\"\nThe painter, reddening with despite,\nWhispers, \"My friend, by Jove, you're right.\n'Tis not enough our art to know,\nTill less of it we learn to show;\nMy picture must be done again\nI see, to please discerning men.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COBBLER AND THE NABOB.\n\n\nA cobbler, who had fix'd his stall\nAgainst a nabob's palace wall,\nWork'd merrily as others play,\nAnd sung and whistled all the day.\nA prey to many an anxious care,\nLess merry was the lord, by far;\nAnd often in the night he thought\nIt hard, sleep was not to be bought:\nAnd if tow'rds morn he got a doze,\nThe cobbler troubled his repose.\nOne day he bid the man attend--\nAnd, \"Well,\" says he, \"my honest friend,\nHow is it that so well you thrive?\nYou seem the happiest man alive.\nPray, what may be the profit clear,\nThat you can earn within the year?\"\n\"What in a twelvemonth I can earn,\nMy lord, was never my concern;\n'Tis quite enough,\" the cobbler said,\n\"If I can gain my daily bread.\"\n\"Take then this note\"--'twas twenty pound;\n\"But sing not with so shrill a sound,\nGood man,\" the generous nabob cries,\n\"When early to your work you rise;\nFor then I want to close my eyes.\"\nDelighted to his stall he went:\nBut now he first felt discontent;\nAll day he neither work'd nor ate,\nFor thinking of his happy fate.\nAt night, when he retir'd to bed,\nHe plac'd the note beneath his head.\nBut could not sleep a single wink,\nWhat he should do with it, to think;\nAnd every little noise he heard,\nThat folks were come to rob him, fear'd.\nLiving in constant dread to all,\nWho did but look towards his stall,\nSo lean and sallow he was grown,\nThe man was hardly to be known.\nAt last he begg'd the lord to see:\n\"Take back your present, sir,\" said he,\n\"Riches, I find, are not for me.\nTo-morrow I my song renew;\nNot less my gratitude to you:\nAnd care henceforward I will take,\nMy chaunts your slumber do not break.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HORSE AND HIS RIDER.\n\n\nA man a palfrey long possess'd,\nA quiet, serviceable beast;\nSpavin'd, indeed, and somewhat blind,\nBut still his way he well could find;\nAnd if he stumbled now and then,\nWas soon upon his feet again.\nIn short, for many a year, the pack\nHad borne him safely on his back.\nTill riding out one fatal day,\nHe overheard some coxcombs say,\n\"For such a man, 'tis quite a shame,\nTo mount a horse old, blind, and lame.\"\n\"Aye,\" replied one, \"I know a steed\nWould nobly carry him indeed;\nYoung, vigorous, beautiful, and sound;\nHis like is nowhere to be found.\"\nIn evil hour an ear he lent,\nTo view this boasted courser went:\nUnwary on his back he got,\nAnd tried to put him on a trot;\nHe rear'd and plung'd, and leap'd about,\nTill from his seat he shook him out,\nThen kicking, pitch'd him o'er his head,\nAnd laid him on the pavement dead.\nThe vicious creature left at large,\nOn all his fury would discharge;\nThis from behind his heels surprise,\nTrod under foot, that sprawling lies:\nAnother, who would seize the reins,\nIs bit and mangled for his pains.\nBut want of nourishment and rest\nWill tame at last the fiercest beast;\nAnd rage itself suspends its course,\nExhausted by its proper force.\nLight'ning no more his eyes inspire,\nNo more his nostrils snorted fire;\nAt bay he stood, fatigu'd and lank,\nWith flagging ears, and beating flank.\nAn active jockey, stout and able,\nContracts to bring him to the stable;\nSoothes, and his neck begins to pat,\nAnd the corn rattles in his hat;\nBy hunger drawn, repell'd by fear,\nThe courser neighs, retires, comes near;\nLur'd with the smell, begins to eat.\nThe jockey vaulted in the seat:\nWith vigorous hand the bridle plied,\nAnd stuck the rowels in his side.\nSome bounds and curvets still he made,\nBut soon submissively obey'd.\nThe horseman who such skill had shown,\nResolv'd to keep him for his own:\nAware that constant work alone\nCan keep this wicked spirit down\nHe night and day is on his back,\nTo lead him to some new attack,\nNo road is safe, nor far nor near,\nThis highwayman is every where.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE GOOD MINISTER.\n\n\nAn honest minister disgrac'd,\n(Such are not easily replac'd,)\nFound the sweet leisure in his fields,\nTo virtuous minds retirement yields.\nThe king, who had his foes believ'd,\nThe loss of him ere long perceiv'd.\nTo bring him back again intent,\nTo his retreat alone he went:\n\"My friend, you must return with me,\"\nHe said, \"your value now I see.\"\n\"Forgive me,\" the Recluse replied;\n\"Here I determine to abide.\nBy sad experience well I know,\nWere I to court again to go,\nAnd all my best endeavors do,\nTo serve my country, sir, and you,\nArt and intrigue so much prevail,\nAgain I certainly should fail;\nAgainst your will and approbation,\nAnd the good wishes of the nation,\nYou'd find yourself compell'd to yield,\nAnd I once more must quit the field.\"\n\nThe honest man, who will not bend\nTo circumstance, or condescend\nTo pay his court to knave or fool,\nWill never long a nation rule.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SWAN AND THE COOK.\n\n\nA man once had a swan and goose\n  Among his birds and beasts.\nThe one was destined for a pet,\n  The other for a feast.\nSometimes you saw them sailing\n  Gracefully on the current, side by side,\nSometimes they played a game of tag,\n  Or plunged into the tide.\nOne day the master ordered\n  The cook to kill the goose,\nAnd roast it for his dinner;\n  It was fat and fit for use.\nBut the cook had taken a drop too much,\n  And it had gone to his head;\nSo when he went out for the goose\n  He took the swan instead.\nHe seized the swan fast by the throat,\n  And would have kill'd it soon:\nBut the bird saw he was to die,\n  And he his throat did tune,\nAnd warbled out his farewell lay.\n  The cook straight dropped his knife\nIn great surprise, \"what! what!\" cried he,\n  \"Shall I take the life\nOf a musical bird like this?\n  No, no! it must not be.\nSo to the garden he shall go back\n  And ne'er be kill'd by me.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE LYNX AND THE MOLE.\n\n\nA lynx once met by chance a mole,\nJust emerging from his hole.\nThe lynx with penetrating eye\nThe beauties of the place did spy,\nAnd asked the mole to take a share\nIn the fine prospect, rich and rare.\n\"I've seldom found so good a place.\nFrom this small hill you see a space\nExtended far beneath your view,\nI like it much; pray do not you?\nSee now the sun begins to rise,\nAnd with crimson tints the skies.\nIt spreads all round its genial heat,\nAnd nature now enjoys a treat.\"\n\"Well, well!\" the mole aloud did cry\n\"You may see this and more, but I\nCan only now before me see,\nA very heavy mist.\" \"Truly,\nNow,\" said the lynx, \"I clearly see\nThe difference 'twixt you and me.\nMy eyes see with perception bright\nWhile your's are always dark as night.\nGo to your hold beneath the ground,\nWhile I will range the forest round.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE OLD CAT AND THE YOUNG\nMOUSE.\n\n\nA young mouse of little experience,\nThought to soften an old cat,\nAnd besought her clemency,\nBy asking for his life at her expense.\nSaid he, \"A mouse, or e'en a rat,\nIs not a great charge on the house;\nAnd I shall not starve out the host.\nBesides I seldom quit my post,\nAnd when I do a grain of corn\nHas served me since I first was born.\nNow I am thin, pray let me be,\nI'll serve your children yet, you'll see.\"\nThus to the cat spoke the poor mouse.\nThe other answered, \"You mistake,\nWhen unto me this tone you take;\nYou might as well talk to the deaf,\nAs to so old a cat as I,\nAnd through your tricks I spy,\nDie! you can go and chatter to the fates,\nMy children will be fed on better cates.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nYouth is sanguine, and hopes for all:\nOld age is pitiless; so says our moral.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TWO FRIENDS.\n\n\nTwo real friends lived in Monomotapa,\nAll that belonged to one was for the other,\nAnd each was unto each a brother.\nThe people of that country, thus,\nMake better friends than among us.\nOne night when fast asleep,\n  They each were sound reposing,\nThe eldest darted from his couch,\n  And stopped the other's dozing.\nHe runs to see his friend,\nAwakes the slaves, and in the end,\nEven his friend is quite alarmed,\nAnd goes to seek the other,\nWith sword and purse. \"My brother,\nWhat can the matter be?\nHere I am armed, you see,\nReady with sword to fight for you,\nAnd here is money ready too,\nIf you have lost in play.\nYou're even welcome to my handsome slave,\nWith jet black hair, and eyes so grave.\"\n\"No!\" said the other, \"I need naught,\nBut ere I slept to-night, I thought,\nBeing in a trance, that you were sad,\nAnd as the thought nigh drove me mad,\nI hurried to your tent,\nAnd found you sleeping quite content.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nWhich of the two best loved the other?\nHere is a thing to ponder on.\nA true friend is a precious thing,\nAnd all to aid you he will bring,\nBut with excess of love the other\nIn dreams was thinking of his brother.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SICK STAG.\n\n\nIn a land where stags are many,\nOne fell sick, and not any\nOf all his friends, delayed to come,\nTo offer aid and consolation,\nIn his sorrowful situation.\nSaid he, \"My friends, pray let me die\nIn the right way, nor shed such tears.\"\nNot at all, the consolers,\nWith many a tear, and many a sigh,\nHad come resolved by him to lie;\nAnd when they left they helped themselves\nUpon his lands, the greedy elves!\nAnd drank from out his brook,\nAnd every one of them such suppers took,\nThat when the stag revived,\nHe found his meals reduced;\nSo that while his friends had thrived,\nHe had to fast or die of hunger.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FOREST AND THE WOODMAN.\n\n\nA woodman had broken or misplaced\nThe wooden handle of his axe,\nThis loss could not be well replaced.\nSo master woodman humbly prayed\nFrom all the trees a single branch,\nAnd promised to go elsewhere when he made\nAgain his livelihood,\nAnd he would touch nor oak nor pine.\nThe trees which were all very good\nFurnished for him new arms,\nAnd soon commenced all their alarms,\nAnd their regret. The axe was mended.\nAnd his repentance all was ended.\nThe miserable wretch but used it,\nE'en as he had before abused it,\nBy felling down the forest trees,\nWhich groaned in spirit, and which died,\nBy arms they had themselves supplied.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThis is the way the world goes on,\nWe use our benefits against our benefactors:\nI am tired of speaking thereupon,\nTill we obtain our wants, we are good actors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ELEPHANT AND THE MONKEY\nOF JUPITER.\n\n\nFormerly the elephant and the rhinoceros\nDisputing on the light of empire\nResolved to end the combat thus--\nBy fighting to their heart's desire.\nThe day was fixed, when it was heard,\nThat the monkey of Sire Jupiter\nHad been seen in the air,\nPoised on a cloud like any bird.\nThe elephant was quite convinced\nThat to arrange the new election,\nAn interest the god evinced,\nAnd felt for him a great affection,\nHe went to see the monkey's highness,\nExpecting him to speak about the fight,\nBut not a word said monkey.\nAt this sight,\nThe elephant perceived that he must speak himself,\nAnd so began: \"Sire Jupiter,\" said he,\n\"Between rhinoceros and me will see\nA royal combat of legation;\nA tournament for all the nation.\nI suppose you have already heard\nThis news!\" Said monkey, \"Not a word.\"\nThe elephant ashamed, and quite surprised,\nLooked on the monkey with astonished eyes.\nSaid monkey, \"In celestial place,\nA fly or leopard are of equal race.\"\n\"Was it not then because of us,\"\nSaid elephant, \"that you descended?\"\n\"Nay,\" said the monkey, quite offended.\n\"I left the heavens to share a grain of corn\nAmong some ants, nor knew that you were born.\nWe have the care of mortal things;\nBut all are equals in our eyes,\nAnd at your talk I feel surprise.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE WOODCUTTER AND DEATH.\n\n\nA woodman was toiling, all covered with dust,\nBut reach home with his faggot ere night he must,\nPanting and weary he walks quite slow,\nHow to get home he does not know.\nAt last quite exhausted with toil and trouble,\nWith the weight of the burden and his years, bent double.\nHe puts down his faggot, and thinks of his pains,\nWhat is his work, and what are his gains,\nHow since he came into this weary world,\nBy the wheels of blind fortune around he's been twirled.\nWas he not poor, a wood cutter, at best,\nOft without bread, always without rest.\nHe thinks of his wife, his children, his taxes,\nAt last quite warm with the subject he waxes.\nHe calls on death; who comes without delay,\nThe woodman, in terror, knows not what to say.\nDeath asks what to do the man wishes he should.\n\"Oh, help me,\" he said, \"with this faggot of wood.\nMy poor bones ache, and my limbs they crack.\nSo help me to put it upon my back.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE RAT AND THE OYSTER.\n\n\nA rat who lived in the field,\n  A rat of little wit,\nOnce grew tired of his father's house,\n  And quietly left it.\nHe left the field, the grain and wheat,\n  Set out to travel, left his hole,\nAnd just as soon as he was out,\n  \"How large and spacious on the whole\nIs this great country spread about.\nHere are the Apeninnes, and there Caucasus.\"\nThe smallest mole hill is a mountain.\nAt the end of some days our traveller arrives\nAt a certain canton where every oyster thrives,\nAnd our famed traveller turned very pale,\nThinking he saw great vessels setting sail\n\"Mercy,\" said he, \"My father was a dunce,\nHe did not dare to travel even once,\nWhile I have seen already,\nThe maritime empire,\nAnd travelled to my heart's desire.\"\nFrom a certain learn'd man,\nThe rat had heard of such things,\nAnd thinks he has seen all he can.\nAmong the many oysters closed,\nThere was one open, which reposed,\nMouth gaping, in the sun,\nThe learned, travelled man,\nThe rat, approached, thinking to make\nAn excellent repast, and began to take\nA bite at the fine oyster, plump and fat,\nWhereupon closing on our rat,\nThe oyster caught him tight\nAnd held him with all its might.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThis fable goes to show,\nThat those mistake,\nWho think that all they know:\nWhen knowing nothing of the world,\nTheir giddy brain is quickly whirled.\nAnd hence this moral let us make,\nThat he is caught, who thinks to take.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE PHYSICIANS.\n\n\nDr. So-much-the-worse went out to see\nA patient sick as one could be.\nHis brother So-much-the-better,\nHaving received an urgent letter,\nCame also the sick man to visit.\nSo-much-the-worse declared he'd die,\nSo-much-the-better asked him why.\nAnd while their plans they thus discourse,\nThe sick man died, _so much the worse_!\nSo-much-the-better now declared,\nThat if the sick man had not despaired,\nHe would have lived. So-much-the-worse\nSaid, \"I was right, agree with me,\nOur patient's dead, as you can see.\"\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThere's wisdom in the saying, by my troth,\nToo many cooks will spoil the broth.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MOUNTAIN IN LABOR.\n\n\nA mountain thought to be in labor,\nMade such a horrid noise,\nThat round it each stranger came and neighbor,\nThinking the end of all this noise would be\nA city, quite as large as three.\nHaving drawn all the province round,\nThe mountain from a little mound,\nLet out a mouse.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nWhen I think upon this fable,\nOf which the narration is false,\nAnd the sense true;\nIt puts me much in mind\nOf authors not a few,\nWho boast that they are able\nTo write on any subject as they please,\nAnd after all--do nothing.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CAT METAMORPHOSED INTO\nA WOMAN.\n\n\nA man was passionately fond of his cat,\nHe thought she was pretty, and sleek, and all that;\nAnd she purred in the softest tone,\nHe wished to make her his own.\nThis man by prayers, by tears,\n  By sorcery and charms,\nChanged pussy to a woman fair,\n  And took her in his arms.\nBut in the wainscot soon a rat\n  Made itself manifest,\nAnd very soon the pussy cat,\n  Could still no longer rest.\nHer foolish husband who believed\n  That nothing had of cat remained,\nAnd as his wife had her received--\n  Was, now, I warrant, somewhat pained.\nNext time the vermin came,\nPussy was surer of her game--\n  For having changed her face,\nThe mice not frightened,\n  Did not change their pace--\nAnd the astonished spouse\n  Was very glad--\nTo change her back--\n  And was no more cat-mad.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nWhat in the bone is born,\n  Will in the flesh remain,\nBoth night and morn,\n  And ne'er come out again.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE FROG AND THE RAT.\n\n\nHe who another thinks to injure,\nMay in the end destroy himself.\n\nA rat who fed exceeding well,\nWas by a frog invited out to dine;\n\"The voyage,\" said froggy, \"will be quickly made,\nIf you will tie your foot to mine.\"\nFrog vaunted the delight of bathing,\nPraised the varieties they'd met upon the way,\nAnd when the rat consented to be tied,\nAttempted to bear him away.\nThe rat half drowned resisted all he could.\nThe frog, imaged the dinner he would make;\nSuddenly, flying from a neighboring wood,\nA hawk appeared, and quickly did he take\nBoth of the combatants up in his bill,\nBefore they e'en had time to make their will;\nAnd quite delighted did the greedy sinner\nMake off of fish and flesh a hearty dinner.\nFor in the hawk's dominions, fast days\nAre never kept.\nNow if the frog had acted as he ought,\nAnd had not tried to dine off the poor rat,\nThey would not both have perished,\nTo make fat,\nA pampered hawk;\nAnd master rat,\nHad he not been so curious about\nAquatic government,\nHad from the scrape got safely out.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nA scheme or a conspiracy,\nBe it all plotted well\nAs safe, 'twould seem as it could be,\nAnd sure of all success,\nMay, none the less,\nEntirely fail,\nAnd grand conspirators,\nAnd all bewail,\nThe day that set them scheming.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE LION AND THE FLY.\n\n\nA lion by a gad-fly worried,\nHalf maddened by his sting,\nExclaimed, \"Be off, vile fly--\nMean, pitiful, base thing!\"\nAfter the fly had ended his repast,\nFully exhausted feels the beast at last,\nAnd roared so that he shook the earth,\nWhile the victorious fly\nMet in the spider's web his destiny.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nTwo morals draw I from this tale:\n  First, We should fear the smallest enemy;\nAnd second, We may escape great perils,\n  And from a trifling cause may die.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TWO MULES.\n\n\nTwo mules went travelling on their way,\n  One with a sack of corn;\nThe other with gold and bells so gay,\n  Most gaily tripped along.\nProud of so rich a load,\n  He kept the bells a ringing--\nAnd was so proud, had he known how\n  He would have commenced singing.\nSoon some robbers rude appeared,\n  Who stopped this mule upon his road,\nAnd very soon they had him cleared\n  Of all his weight of precious gold.\nFalling beneath their blows, \"I die,\"\n  The expiring trotter cried,\n\"Had you been,\" said the other,\n  \"Low as I, you would not thus have died.\"\n\nBe moderate when you are high,\nNor glory o'er the passers by.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nJUPITER AND THE FARMER.\n\n\nJupiter had a farm to let,\nMercury advertised it, and people came,\nMade offers, listened, all the same,\nMade some objection.\nOne declared the land\nWas rough and dry,\nAnd full of sand.\nOne had this reason, one had that,\nUntil at last a man appeared,\nWho said he'd try to farm it, agreed that\nHe might have any weather that he chose.\n\nBehold! as soon as he but yawns, it blows\nOr rains, or is quite clear.\nHis neighbors, even the most near,\nAre not affected by these changes.\nIn usual route, their weather ranges;\nThey have good crops,\nBut he had none.\nAt last when tired, he began\nComplaining unto Jupiter.\nThe next year the same thing,\nChanges of weather he can bring--\nAnd the neighbors no more\nThan the Americans,\nAre troubled by the farming\nOf his lands.\nAt last tired out, with all his strife in vain,\nHe yields his power to the God of rain;\nAcknowledging, that all along\nThe god did right,\nAnd he did wrong.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nLet us conclude that Providence\nFor man ordains much better than we can.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE COCK, THE CAT, AND THE\nLITTLE MOUSE.\n\n\nA young mouse, who had nothing seen,\nWas nearly caught; You shall hear how\nHe told his mother the adventure--\nHe said, \"Pray, listen, now:\nI started out to frolic at a venture,\nWhen two fine animals appeared\nBefore my eyes,\nAnd filled me with surprise.\nOne was soft, benign, and sweet,\nThe other, turbulent, and full of inquietude,\nHad a loud voice, piercing and rude,\nAnd on his head a piece of flesh.\nA sort of arm raised him up in the air,\nAs though to fly out of a mesh--\nHis tail was spread out like a fan.\"\nNow it was a cock of which our little mouse,\nMade to his mother this fine picture,\nDescribing him like an enthusiast.\n\"He beat,\" said he, \"his flanks,\nWith his two arms,\nMaking such a noise and such a din,\nThat, frightened half to death,\nI hurried in.\nAlthough I pique myself upon my courage\nAnd heartily I cursed him in my heart,\nFor but for him, I'd taken part,\nIn conversation with the gentle creature,\nWho my advances would encourage.\nShe is velvety, like us, with a long tail,\nA modest look, and sparkling eyes,\nAnd is much like a rat. She spies\nThe objects round her. I turned pale\nOn hearing the other creature's din,\nOr else I should have asked her in.\"\n\"My child,\" said the mother, \"this last was a cat,\nAn enemy of every mouse and rat.\nThe other a cock, whom do not fear,\nPerhaps we may dine on him here.\"\n\nTake care, whatever they may seem,\nOf judging people by their mien.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE MONKEY.\n\n\nThe animals, on the death of the lion,\n  During his life, prince of the country,\nResolved to elect a king to try on\n  The regal crown, and chose a monkey.\nBecause after the animals had all\nTried on the regal crown, or let it fall,\nBecause their heads were all too big,\nOr too small, too horned, or too thick,\nThe monkey slipped through it;\nAnd with it cut up many a trick,\nWhich they all thought refined,\nAnd chose him with one mind.\nOnly the fox regretted the election,\nAnd swore to reign in his defection.\nHe came and made his compliment;\n\"Sire,\" said he, \"I know a treasure meant\nFor your high majesty. I will show\nThe spot where it lies hid.\"\nThe monkey went at Reynard's bid--\nAnd was caught in a trap.\nThe fox exclaimed,\n\"How do you think to govern us,\nWhen, after all, with all your fuss,\nYou cannot well, do what you may,\nKeep e'en yourself out of harm's way.\"\nThe animals agreed,\nThat royal power suits very few indeed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HORSE AND THE ASS.\n\n\nAn ass accompanied by a horse uncourteous,\nWho only had his harness on his back;\nAnd the poor jackass staggered\n'Neath the load of vegetable and a pack;\nHe begged the horse to help him,\nIf he could--\nBut not a single bit,\nThe other would.\n\"I ask,\" said the poor beast,\n\"A little pity--\nHelp me at least,\nTo reach the city.\"\nThe horse refused,\nAnd got his due,\nFor the ass died.\nThe farmer's man\nStripped off the skin of honest Ben,\nAnd made the horse, whom they espied,\nDrag on the skin and the cart beside.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\n'Tis wise to lend our aid\n  To others in distress,\nWe often thus are made\n  The means of happiness.\nThe churlish, unkind man\n  His neighbor's death may cause,\nAnd have to help his family,\n  Through taxes and the laws.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ASTROLOGER WHO FELL\nINTO A WELL.\n\n\nAn astrologer, of high ambition,\nWhile star-gazing fell down\nInto a well. \"Sage gentleman,\"\nRemarked the people of the town,\n\"How did you think to read the stars, old man,\nWhen you cannot preserve your own position.\"\nThis adventure in itself, without going further,\nMight serve as a lesson, to most of mankind,\nFor of us mortals, a certain part inclines,\nTo the belief, that, with the help of mind,\nThe book of Destiny may easily be read,\nBut this book, by Homer and his disciples sung,\nWhat is it called but _Chance_, by ancients,\nAnd by us Christians named Providence instead.\nNow in Chance there can no science be,\nOr why should it be called by them _Chance_--\nAnd things uncertain, who knows in advance?\nIf all depends upon the fixed decree,\nOf Him who does all things, and nothing does unwisely.\nHow should we read his will,\nAnd know that which from us he would conceal?\nWherefore watch the stars so nicely,\nTo know how to avoid inevitable woe;\nOr how, in future times, our fate will go;\nTo make us, in the midst of pleasure, sad,\nOr with predicted evil, drive us mad,\nConvert all blessings into curses dire?\nIs this the knowledge to which we aspire,\nIs it an error or a crime thus to believe\nThat future destiny can thus be known?\nIn place of star-gazing above our head,\nLet us confide ourselves to the Great One.\nThe firmament exists, the stars go on their way,\nAnd the sun shines upon us every day;\nAnd every day, the day is lost in night,\nWithout our knowing aught else from the sight.\nThat the seasons come, the crops are ripe,\nAnd in what wood we should look out for snipe,\nAnd some few other things, but for the change\nOf day to night, by which the world doth range,\nIt has not aught to do with Destiny.\nQuacks, and ye compilers of horoscopes,\nQuit all the courts of princes in Europe,\nAnd take with you all mischief makers\n\nYou deserve belief no more than they do.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nThis astrologer in the well,\nResembles all of his false art,\nWho while they are in danger, dream\nThat in the stars, they read the happiest theme.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ANIMALS SICK WITH THE\nPLAGUE.\n\n\nA scourge which spread terror,\nInvented by heaven to punish earth--\nThe plague (if to name it be no error)\nWas making every animal\nTo curse his birth.\nIn one day it might have enriched Acheron,\nAnd upon beasts made busy war.\nAmongst them all there was not one,\nBut, sick and ailing, was complaining sore;\nAll did not die, but each was ill--\nNot one strove now to eat his fill,\nNo meat excited them to taste,\nNor did the wolves again lay waste,\nThe innocent prey.\nEven the doves fled from each other,\nAnd cooed no more the live-long day.\nThe lion held war counsel--\"My brother,\"\nSaid he, addressing each in turn,\n\"I think that heaven hath allowed\nThis punishment on us to fall\nFor the sins we have disavowed.\nNow I for one will confess all,\nAnd let him who is most to blame,\nBe slaughtered in the others' name.\nPerhaps he may obtain a common cure,\nFor history tells us that in like cases,\nThe guilty die in others' places;\nLet us not then be false to Nature,\nLet us confess our faults--in fine\nI will the first acknowledge mine;\nAnd I avow, that oft I keep\nA serious tax on harmless sheep.\nWhat had they done,\nIn naught offended--\nYet I their quiet lives have ended.\nSometimes, with sorrow be it heard,\nI e'en have eaten the shepherd,\nAnd I acknowledge all--\nAnd I will die like a quiet bird--\nIf my death keep you from your fall.\nIt must be hoped now in all justice,\nThat he who is most guilty perish.\"\n\"Sire,\" said the fox, \"you are too good a king\nTo die for any trivial thing;\nYour simples are too nice.\nEat sheep, and why not?\nIs it a sin? is it a vice?\nNo, sire, you did them honor;\nAnd as for shepherds, I desire,\nThat over us their false empire\nShould cease, and we have all we want\nOf sheep and fleece.\"\nSo said the fox, flatterers applaud,\nThe tiger, bear, and other powers they laud,\nEven for their most violent offence.\nAll quarrelsome people,\nDown to the mastiffs,\nWere little saints.\nBut when the donkey's turn came on,\nThey heard him with many ifs.\nHe said, \"I now remember\nThat by a monk's garden passing,\n(It was late in December,\nAnd my strength soon faints,)\nI ate a leaf of some dry plant,\nAnd e'en now I with terror pant.\"\nThey seized upon him and devoured,\nAnd said he was the cause\nOf heaven's anger being lowered.\n\nWith interested judges, _right_\nIs always on the side of _might_.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CANDLE.\n\n\nIt was in the home of the Olympian gods,\nThat bees first lodged, 'tis said,\nOn Mount Hymettus; and thitherwards\nCame zephyrs with light tread.\nWhen from the hives, the honey,\nHad all been taken out,\nAs there remained naught but wax,\nSome candles were, for money,\nCarefully made and sold in packs.\nOne of these candles on a certain day\nSeeing that clay by fire was turned to brick,\nThought he could harden his body the same;\nAnd getting near the fire to try the trick,\nThis new Empedocles to flame condemned\nSoon found of his philosophy the end.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE HOG, THE GOAT, AND THE\nSHEEP.\n\n\nA goat, a sheep, and a fat hog,\nOn the same cart were bound for the fair.\nThey lay as quietly as any log,\nBut were not seeking their amusement there.\nThey were to be sold, so says the story.\nThe carter, who his business knows,\nDon't take them into town to see the _shows_.\nDame porker was inclined to squeal,\nAs though the butcher's knife she 'gan to feel.\nHer grunts, and squeals, and cries\nWere loud enough to deafen one,\nThe other animals more wise,\nAnd better tempered, with surprise\nExclaimed, \"have done!\"\nThe carter to the porker turned,\n\"Where have you manners learned,\nWhy stun us all? Do you not see\nThat you're the noisiest of the three?\nThat sheep says not a word,\nNor can the young goat's voice be heard.\"\n\"But,\" said the hog, \"they both are fools.\nIf like me they knew their fate,\nThey'd halloo out at greater rate,\nThe goat will only lose her milk,\nThe sheep his wool, but here, poor me,\nI'm to be eaten, and know my destiny.\"\nThe porker was quite right,\nBut hallooing with all her might,\nWas all too late,\nAnd could not alter her sad fate.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE DELICATE HERON.\n\n\nBy the bank of a river,\n  A heron walked out,\nAnd in it were sporting,\n  Pike, mackerel and trout.\n\nNow these fish with great ease,\n  Our bird might have caught,\nBut I'll wait till I'm hungry\n  The silly bird thought.\n\nAt last came his appetite,\n  \"Now I'll eat,\" the bird cries,\nAnd some tench from the bottom,\n  Just then he saw rise.\n\n\"But these are not good enough\n  At this time of day,\"\nAnd he waited for better\n  Till all swam away.\n\nAt eve almost starved\n  When all other means fail,\nHe was right glad to sup\n  On a poor little snail.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BLACKAMOOR AND HER\nMISTRESS.\n\n\nA foolish young lady,\n  Took one of her maids,\nWho chanced to be black\n  As the ace of spades,\nAnd said she'd have her washed white,\n  By the other maids;\nShe was put in a tub,\n  And with water and towels\nHer skin they did rub,\n  Through a long summer day till the night;\nBut the more they did rub her,\n  The blacker she got;\nAnd while they did scrub her,\n  She mourned her hard lot.\nSo the maids threw away\n  All their labor and care,\nAnd the mistress gave up\n  Her fine scheme in despair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BEAR AND THE GARDENER.\n\n\nA bear and gardener,\n  Who mutually tired\nOf solitary life,\n  And were inspired,\nWith a warm friendship for each other,\nPromised to be to one another,\nExcellent friends, and so they were.\nAs for the death of the poor man\nI'll tell you how it happened,\nIf I can.\nThe bear watching the gardener in his sleep--\nBeholding on his head a fly,\nAnd thinking it bad company,\nTook up a stone and dropped it down,\nUpon the fly 'tis true,\nBut broke the gardener's crown.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nTo make our fortunes or to mend,\nA most malignant enemy\nIs better than a foolish friend.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE VULTURES AND THE\nPIGEONS.\n\n\nThe wing'd inhabitants of air\nWaged on a time a direful war.\nNot those, in budding groves who sing,\nTo usher in the amorous spring;\nNor those, with Venus' car who fly\nThrough the light clouds and yielding sky\nBut the rapacious vulture brood,\nWith crooked beak that thirsts for blood,\nAnd iron fangs. Their war, 'tis said,\nFor a dog's carrion corse was made.\nShrill shrieks resound from shore to shore;\nThe earth beneath is sanguin'd o'er;\nVersed in the science to destroy,\nAddress and valor they employ.\n'Twould take a hundred tongues to tell,\nThe heroes from the air who fell.\nThe dovecote race, a gentle nation,\nMade offers of their mediation.\nPrudent ambassadors are sent;\nThe vultures with the terms content,\nAgree their guarantee to take,\nAnd armistice and treaty make.\nThis kind desire to interfere,\nCost the poor peace-makers full dear.\nTo rapine bred, the ruthless crew,\nNor gratitude nor faith who knew,\nOn the defenceless pigeons fall,\nAnd shortly had devoured them all.\n\n\nMORAL.\n\nWhen tyrants from their quarrels cease,\nSome weaker neighbor pays their peace.\nHis safety in their warfare lies;\nTheir feuds, not he should compromise.\nWhen Joseph, Frederick, and Kate,\nTired of unprofitable hate,\nTheir animosities would heel,\nThey swallowed Poland at a meal.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BEAR AND THE BEES.\n\n\nA bear once rambled from his home,\nChanced through a garden trim to roam,\nWhere, 'neath the shelter of the trees,\nThe farmer had his hives of bees.\nBruin loved honey. \"Now,\" said he,\n\"I'll rob your store-house, Master Bee.\nYou'll buz, and hum about my ears,\nBut noise a brave bear never fears.\"\nSo saying, bear o'erturns a hive,\nAnd straight the air is all alive,\nWith angry enemies, who sting\nAs well as buz; and make bear sing,\nA lively tune of growls and roars,\nAnd cover him with smarting sores.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nA\nCATALOGUE\nOF\nENTERTAINING AND INSTRUCTIVE\nJUVENILE BOOKS,\n\nPUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY\nC. G. HENDERSON & CO.\n\nAT THEIR\nCentral Book & Stationery Warehouse,\n\nNo. 164 CHESTNUT STREET,\n_Corner of Seventh_,\nUNDER BARNUM'S MUSEUM.\nPHILADELPHIA\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMAJA'S ALPHABET.\n\nA\nVERY BEAUTIFUL\nPICTORIAL ALPHABET,\nIn Rhyme.\n\nWITH NEW AND ORIGINAL DESIGNS,\nBY ABSOLON.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nCOSTUMES OF AMERICA.\n\nAn excellent volume for Young People of both sexes, and well calculated\nto awaken an interest in the History of this Continent.\n\nIllustrated with Twenty-four Engravings of Original Costumes. One\nvolume, square 16mo. Cloth, 50 cents. With Colored Plates, 75 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLittle Charley's Christmas Amusements,\nOR\nWINTER SPORTS DURING THE HOLIDAYS.\n\nWith 28 Engravings on Wood.\n\nOne volume square 16mo. Cloth binding. Price 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLittle Charley's Stories of Great Men.\n\nDESCRIPTIVE OF\nHEROES, STATESMEN, AND SCHOLARS.\n\nWRITTEN IN AN EASY STYLE FOR BEGINNERS.\n\nOne volume square 16mo. Cloth. 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nCARLO FRANCONI,\nAN ITALIAN STORY,\n_And other Stories for Young People_.\n\nBEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS\nSquare 16mo. Cloth Binding.\n\nThis is a very touching and entertaining Story for Youth. The Scene\nis laid in England, and in Italy, the incidents are of a peculiarly\ninteresting character.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLittle Charley's Games and Sports.\n\nEMBELLISHED WITH 27 ENGRAVINGS OF THE PRIMARY\nGAMES FOR LITTLE CHILDREN.\n\nOne volume square 16mo. Cloth. 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\nGood Aunt Fanny's Budget\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOF\nStories and Legends for Children.\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN\nBy Charles A. Dana.\n\nIllustrated with 40 spirited Engravings after designs by Richter.\n\nOne vol. quarto. Cloth binding. Price 75 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLittle Charley's Picture Alphabet.\n\nA stands for an Army,\nHow bravely they go,\nWith flag, drum, and trumpet,\nThey make a great show.\n\nOne volume 16mo. Cloth. Price 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\nLittle Charley's Country Walk,\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOR\nSUMMER RAMBLES\nIN THE\nFIELDS AND WOODS.\n\nBY LITTLE CHARLEY.\n\nAn amusing and instructive book for Children from\nsix to eight years of age.\n\nIllustrated with 20 Engravings.\n16mo. Cloth binding. Price 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLittle Charley's Rhymes and Jingles.\n\nA NEW COLLECTION OF STORIES IN RHYME\nFOR\nALL THE GOOD LITTLE BOYS OF AMERICA.\n\nEmbellished with 20 appropriate Wood Designs.\n\nSquare 16mo. Cloth. 25 cents.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nKRISS KRINGLE'S\nRHYME BOOK.\n\nA Lively Book of Rhymes for very little Children.\n\nRICHLY EMBELLISHED WITH PICTURES.\n\nSquare 16mo. Paper Covers,  12-1/2 cents.\n             Cloth Binding, 25       \"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNut Cracker and Sugar Dolly\nA FAIRY TALE.\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.\nBY CHARLES A. DANA.\n\nSQUARE 16mo. CLOTH AND CLOTH GILT.\n\nThis New Fairy Tale is one of the liveliest, most readable, and most\nunexceptionable for Children which has ever appeared.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Complete\nBOOK OF NURSERY RHYMES,\nFROM\nThe Creation of the World\nTO\nTHE PRESENT TIME.\n\nOne volume 18mo, 252 pages. Cloth Binding.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHRILLING STORIES\nOF THE\nOCEAN.\n\nFor the Entertainment and Instruction of the Young.\n\nThis is a neat volume of 300 pages, with numerous Embellishments.\nIt is written in a familiar, popular style, and is well suited\nto the Juvenile, Family or School library.\n\nCLOTH BINDING, PLAIN AND GILT EXTRA.\n\n\n\n\nCOSTUMES OF EUROPE.\n\nBeautifully Embellished with 24 Engravings of Original Costumes.\nOne vol. Square 16mo. Fine Cloth binding, 50 cts; with Col'd\nEngravings, 75 cts.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThis is a Companion volume to the COSTUMES OF AMERICA, and is equally\ninstructive as well as pleasing for young readers.\n\n--> Every intelligent Boy should possess a Copy of the Book of Costumes\nof Europe and America.","title":"Aesop, in Rhyme: Old Friends in a New Dress","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":22235}