A TURKEY, tired of common food, Forsook the barn, and sought the wood; Behind her ran her infant train, Collecting here and there a grain.

"Draw near, my birds," the mother cries, "This hill delicious fare supplies; Behold the busy negro race, See millions blacken all the place.

Fear not: like me, with freedom eat; An Ant is most delightful meat.

How blessed, how envied were our life, Could we but 'scape the poulterer's knife!

But man, cursed man, on Turkeys preys, And Christmas shortens all our days.

Sometimes with oysters we combine; Sometimes a.s.sist the savoury chine: From the low peasant to the lord, The Turkey smokes on every board; Sure, men for gluttony are cursed, Of the seven deadly sins, the worst."

An Ant, who climbed beyond her reach, Thus answered from the neighbouring beech: "Ere you remark another's sin, Bid thy own conscience look within; Control thy more voracious bill, Nor, for a breakfast, nations kill."

MORAL.

In other folks we faults can spy, And blame the mote that dims their eye; Each little speck and blemish find: To our own stronger errors blind.

FABLE LXII.

THE DOG AND THE WOLF.

A LEAN, hungry, half-starved Wolf happened, one moonshiny night, to meet a jolly, plump, well-fed Mastiff; and after the first compliments were pa.s.sed, says the Wolf, "You look extremely well; I protest, I think I never saw a more graceful, comely person; but how comes it about, I beseech you, that you should live so much better than I? I may say, without vanity, that I venture fifty times more than you do, and yet I am almost ready to perish with hunger." The Dog answered very bluntly, "Why, you may live as well, if you do the same for it as I do." "Indeed! what is that?" says he. "Why," says the Dog, "only to guard the house at night, and keep it from thieves." "With all my heart," replies the Wolf, "for at present I have but a sorry time of it; and I think to change my hard lodging in the woods, where I endure rain, frost, and snow, for a warm roof over my head and enough of good victuals, will be no bad bargain." "True," says the Dog; "therefore you have nothing to do but to follow me."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HOUSE DOG AND THE WOLF.]

Now, as they were jogging on together, the Wolf spied a crease in the Dog's neck, and having a strange curiosity, could not forbear asking him what it meant! "Pugh! nothing," says the Dog.

"Nay, but pray," says the Wolf. "Why," says the Dog, "if you must know, I am tied up in the day-time, because I am a little fierce, for fear I should bite people, and am only let loose at nights.

But this is done with a design to make me sleep by day, more than anything else, and that I may watch the better in the night time; for, as soon as ever the twilight appears, out I am turned, and may go where I please. Then my master brings me plates of bones from the table with his own hands; and whatever sc.r.a.ps are left by any of the family, all fall to my share; for, you must know, I am a favourite with everybody. So you see how you are to live.--Come, come along; what is the matter with you?" "No,"

replied the Wolf, "I beg your pardon; keep your happiness all to yourself. Liberty is the word with me; and I would not be a king upon the terms you mention."

MORAL.

The lowest condition of life, with freedom, is happier than the greatest without it. The bird of the air, though he roosts on a bough, has more real joy than the well-fed captive in a gilded cage.

FABLE LXIII.

THE SATYR AND THE TRAVELLER.

A SATYR, as he was ranging the forest in an exceedingly cold, snowy season, met with a Traveller half starved with the extremity of the weather. He took compa.s.sion on him, and kindly invited him home to a warm, comfortable cave he had in a hollow of a rock. As soon as they had entered and sat down, notwithstanding there was a good fire in the place, the chilled Traveller could not forbear blowing his finger-ends.

Upon the Satyr asking him why he did so, he answered that he did it to warm his hands. The honest Sylvan having seen little of the world, admired a man who was master of so valuable a quality as that of blowing heat; and, therefore, was resolved to entertain him in the best manner he could. He spread the table before him with dried fruits of several sorts, and produced a remnant of cold cordial wine, which, as the rigour of the season made very proper, he mulled with some warm spices, over the fire, and presented to his shivering guest. But this the Traveller thought fit to blow likewise; and upon the Satyr's demanding the reason why he blowed again, he replied, to cool the dish.

This second answer provoked the Satyr's indignation, as much as the first had kindled his surprise; so, taking the man by the shoulder, he thrust him out, saying he would have nothing to do with a wretch who had so vile a quality as to blow hot and cold with the same mouth.

MORAL.

Double dealing is always detestable. The man that blows hot and cold at the same time is not worthy to be trusted; the sooner we part from him the better.

FABLE LXIV.

THE BARLEY-MOW AND THE DUNGHILL.

As 'CROSS his yard, at early day, A careful farmer took his way, He stopped, and leaning on his fork, Observed the flail's incessant work.

In thought he measured all his store; His geese, his hogs, he numbered o'er; In fancy weighed the fleeces shorn, And multiplied the next year's corn.

A Barley-Mow, which stood beside, Thus to its musing master cried:

"Say, good sir, is it fit or right, To treat me with neglect and slight?

Me, who contribute to your cheer, And raise your mirth with ale and beer!

Why thus insulted, thus disgraced, And that vile Dunghill near me placed?

Are those poor sweepings of a groom, That filthy sight, that nauseous fume, Meet objects here? Command it hence: A thing so mean must give offence."

The humble Dunghill thus replied: "Thy master hears, and mocks thy pride.

Insult not thus the meek and low; In me thy benefactor know: My warm a.s.sistance gave thee birth, Or thou hadst perished low in earth: But upstarts, to support their station, Cancel at once all obligation."

FABLE LXV.

THE SHEEP-BITER AND SHEPHERD.

A CERTAIN Shepherd had a Dog, upon whose fidelity he relied very much; for whenever he had occasion to be absent himself, he committed the care and tuition of the flock to the charge of his Dog; and, to encourage him to do his duty cheerfully, he fed him constantly with sweet curds and whey, and sometimes threw him a crust or two. Yet, notwithstanding this, no sooner was his back turned, but the treacherous cur fell foul of the flock, and devoured the sheep, instead of guarding and defending them. The Shepherd being informed of this, was resolved to hang him; and the Dog, when the rope was about his neck, and he was just going to be hung, began to expostulate with his master, asking him, why he was so unmercifully bent against him, who was his own servant and creature, and had only committed two or three crimes, and why he did not rather execute vengeance upon the Wolf, who was a constant and declared enemy? "Nay," replies the Shepherd, "it is for that very reason that I think you ten times more deserving of death than he. From him I expected nothing but hostilities; and therefore could guard against him. You I depended upon as a just and faithful servant, and fed and encouraged you accordingly; and therefore your treachery is the more notorious, and your ingrat.i.tude the more unpardonable."

MORAL.

A known enemy is better than a treacherous friend.

FABLE LXVI.

THE STAG AT THE POOL.

A STAG that had been drinking at a clear spring, saw himself in the water; and, pleased with the sight, stood long contemplating and surveying his shape and features from head to foot. "Ah!"