Favourite Fables in Prose and Verse | Page 9

haughty, imperious tone, and threatened to trample him in the dirt, if he did not make way for him. The poor, patient Ass, not daring to dispute the matter, quietly got out of his way as fast as he could, and let him go by. Not long after this, the same Horse, in an engagement with the enemy, happened to be shot in the eye, which made him unfit for show or any military business; so he was stript of his fine ornaments, and sold to a carrier. The Ass, meeting him in this forlorn condition, thought that now it was his time to speak; and so, says he, "Heyday, friend, is it you? Well, I always believed that pride of yours would one day have a fall."
MORAL.
Pride and haughtiness are foreign to really great men. Those who show it, when in their high estate, if the wheel of fortune should change, instead of friendship or pity, will meet with nothing but contempt.
[Illustration: THE CHARGER AND THE ASS.]
FABLE XXX.
THE COLT AND THE FARMER.
A COLT, for blood and mettled speed,?The choicest of the running breed,?Of youthful strength and beauty vain,?Refused subjection to the rein.
In vain the groom's officious skill?Opposed his pride, and checked his will;?In vain the master's forming care?Restrained with threats, or soothed with prayer:?Of freedom proud, and scorning man,?Wild o'er the spacious plain he ran.
Where'er luxuriant Nature spread?Her flowery carpet o'er the mead,?Or bubbling stream's soft gliding pass?To cool and freshen up the grass,?Disdaining bounds, he cropped the blade,?And wantoned in the spoil he made.
In plenty thus the summer passed;?Revolving winter came at last:?The trees no more a shelter yield;?The verdure withers from the field:?Perpetual snows invest the ground;?In icy chains the streams are bound:?Cold, nipping winds, and rattling hail,?His lank, unsheltered sides assail.
As round he cast his rueful eyes,?He saw the thatched-roof cottage rise:?The prospect touched his heart with cheer,?And promised kind deliverance near.?A stable, erst his scorn and hate,?Was now become his wished retreat;?His passion cool, his pride forgot,?A Farmer's welcome yard he sought.
The master saw his woful plight,?His limbs, that tottered with his weight,?And, friendly, to the stable led,?And saw him littered, dressed, and fed.?In slothful ease all night he lay;?The servants rose at break of day;?The market calls. Along the road?His back must bear the pond'rous load;
In vain he struggles or complains,?Incessant blows reward his pains.?To-morrow varies but his toil:?Chained to the plough, he breaks the soil;?While scanty meals at night repay?The painful labours of the day.
Subdued by toil, with anguish rent,?His self-upbraidings found a vent.?"Wretch that I am!" he sighing said,?"By arrogance and folly led;?Had but my restive youth been brought?To learn the lesson nature taught,?Then had I, like my sires of yore,?The prize from every courser bore.?Now, lasting servitude's my lot,?My birth contemned, my speed forgot;?Doomed am I, for my pride, to bear?A living death from year to year."
MORAL.
He who disdains control, will only gain?A youth of pleasure for an age of pain.
FABLE XXXI.
THE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES.
A LARK, who had young ones in a field of corn almost ripe, was under some fear lest the reapers should come to reap it before her young brood was fledged and able to remove from that place. She, therefore, upon flying abroad to look for food, left this charge with them--to take notice what they heard talked of in her absence, and tell her of it when she came back again.
When she was gone, they heard the owner of the corn call to his son: "Well," says he, "I think this corn is ripe enough. I would have you go early to-morrow, and desire our friends and?neighbours to come and help us to reap it." When the old Lark came home, the young ones fell a quivering and chirping round her, and told her what had happened, begging her to remove them as fast as she could. The mother bid them be easy: "For," said she, "if the owner depends on his friends and neighbours, I am pretty sure the corn will not be reaped to-morrow."
Next day, she went out again, leaving the same orders as before. The owner came, and staid, expecting his friends; but the sun grew hot, and nothing was done, for not a soul came to help them. Then says he to his son, "I perceive these friends of ours are not to be depended upon; so you must go to your uncles and?cousins, and tell them I desire they would be here betimes?to-morrow morning, to help us to reap." Well, this the young ones, in a great fright, reported also to their mother. "If that be all," says she, "do not be frightened, dear children; for kindred and relations are not so very forward to serve one?another; but take particular notice what you hear said next time, and be