Favourite Fables in Prose and Verse | Page 7

LION WOUNDED.
A MAN, who was very skilful with his bow, went up into the forest to
hunt. At his approach, there was a great consternation and rout among
the wild beasts, the Lion alone showing any determination to fight.

"Stop," said the Archer to him, "and await my messenger, who has
somewhat to say to you." With that, he sent an arrow after the Lion,
and wounded him in the side. The Lion, smarting with anguish, fled
into the depths of the forest; but a Fox, seeing him run, bade him take
courage, and face his enemy. "No," said the Lion, "you will not
persuade me to that; for if the messenger he sends is so sharp, what
must be the power of him who sends it?"
MORAL.
It is better to yield to a superior force than foolishly brave its power.
[Illustration: THE LION WOUNDED.]
FABLE XXI.
THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN.
An Ass, finding a Lion's skin, disguised himself with it, and ranged
about the forest, putting all the beasts that saw him into bodily fear.
After he had diverted himself thus for some time, he met a Fox, and,
being desirous to frighten him too, as well as the rest, he leapt at him
with some fierceness, and endeavoured to imitate the roaring of the
Lion.
"Your humble servant," says the Fox, "if you had held your
tongue, I
might have taken you for a Lion, as others did; but now you bray I
know who you are."
MORAL.
A silent man may pass for a wise man, but when we hear him speak we
are able to form an estimate of his value.
FABLE XXII.
JUPITER AND THE FARMER.
'Tis said, that Jove had once a farm to let,

And sent down Mercury, his common crier,
To make the most that he
could get;
Or sell it to the highest buyer.
To view the premises the people flocked:
And, as 'tis usual in such case,
Began to run them down apace;
The
soil was poor, the farm ill stocked:
In short, a barren, miserable place,
Scarce worth th' expense to draw a
lease.
One bolder, tho' not wiser than the rest,
Offered to pay in so much rent,
Provided he had Jove's consent
To
guide the weather just as he thought best;
Or wet, or dry; or cold, or hot;
Whate'er he asked should be his lot;
To all which Jove gave a consenting nod.
The seasons now obsequious stand,
Quick to obey their lord's
command,
And now the Farmer undertakes the god;
Now calls for sunshine, now for rains,
Dispels the clouds, the wind
restrains;
But still confined within his farm alone,
He makes a climate all his
own;
For when he sheds, or when he pours,
Refreshing dews, or soaking
showers,
His neighbours never share a drop;
So much the better for their crop;

Each glebe a plenteous harvest yields;
Whilst our director spoils
his fields.

Next year, he tries a different way;
New moulds the seasons, and
directs again;
But all in vain:
His neighbour's grounds still thrive while his decay.
What does he do in this sad plight?
For once he acted right:
He to
the god his fate bemoaned,
Asked pardon, and his folly owned.

Jove, like a tender master, fond to save,
His weakness pityed, and his
fault forgave.
MORAL.
He, who presumes the ways of heaven to scan,
Is not a wise, nor yet a
happy man:
In this firm truth securely we may rest,--
Whatever
Providence ordains is best;
Had man the power, he'd work his own
undoing;
To grant his will would be to cause his ruin.
FABLE XXIII.
THE VAIN JACKDAW.
A CERTAIN Jackdaw was so proud and ambitious that, not contented
to live within his own sphere, he picked up the feathers which fell from
the Peacocks, stuck them among his own, and very
confidently
introduced himself into an assembly of those
beautiful birds. They
soon found him out, stripped him of his borrowed plumes, and falling
upon him with their sharp bills, punished him as his presumption
deserved.
Upon this, full of grief and affliction, he returned to his old companions,
and would have flocked with them again; but they, knowing his late life
and conversation, industriously avoided him, and refused to admit him
into their company; and one of them, at the same time, gave him this
serious reproof: "If, friend, you could have been contented with your
station, and had not disdained the rank in which nature had placed you,
you had not been used so scurvily by those amongst whom you
introduced yourself, nor suffered the notorious slight which we now

think ourselves obliged to put upon you."
MORAL.
Great evils arise from vanity; for when we try to place ourselves in a
position for which we are not fit, we are liable to be laughed at, and,
when we would return to our former state, we find we have lost the
esteem