says he, "what a glorious pair of branching horns are there! How gracefully do those antlers hang over my forehead, and give an agreeable turn to my whole face! If some other parts of my body were but in proportion to them, I would turn my back to n.o.body; but I have a set of such legs as really make me ashamed to see them. People may talk what they please of their conveniences, and what great need we stand in of them, upon several occasions; but, for my part, I find them so very slender and unsightly that I had as lief have none at all."

While he was giving himself these airs, he was alarmed with the noise of some huntsmen and a pack of hounds that had been just laid on upon the scent, and were making towards him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE STAG AT THE POOL.]

Away he flees in some consternation, and, bounding nimbly over the plain, threw dogs and men at a vast distance behind him.

After which, taking a very thick copse, he had the ill-fortune to be entangled by his horns in a thicket, where he was held fast, till the hounds came in and pulled him down. Finding now how it was likely to go with him, in the pangs of death, he is said to have uttered these words:--"Unhappy creature that I am! I am too late convinced that what I prided myself in has been the cause of my undoing, and what I so much disliked was the only thing that could have saved me."

MORAL.

Beauty often becomes a snare and ruin, while solid virtue, though unadorned, gains respect. The latter, too, will mature with age, while the former will surely fade.

FABLE LXVII.

THE OLD SWALLOWS AND THE YOUNG BIRDS.

A SWALLOW, observing a husbandman employed in sowing hemp, called the little Birds together, and informed them what the farmer was about. He told them that hemp was the material from which the nets, so fatal to the feathered race, were composed; and advised them unanimously to join in picking it up, in order to prevent the consequences.

The Birds, either disbelieving his information, or neglecting his advice, gave themselves no trouble about the matter. In a little time, the hemp appeared above the ground. The friendly Swallow again addressed himself to them--told them it was not yet too late, provided they would immediately set about the work, before the seeds had taken too deep root. But, they still rejecting his advice, he forsook their society; repaired, for safety, to towns and cities; there built his habitation, and kept his residence.

One day, as he was skimming along the streets, he happened to see a great number of these very Birds, imprisoned in a cage, on the shoulders of a bird-catcher. "Unhappy wretches!" said he, "you now feel the punishment of your former neglect. But those who, having no foresight of their own, despise the wholesome admonition of their friends, deserve the mischiefs which their own obstinacy or negligence bring upon their heads."

MORAL.

This Fable teaches thoughtless youth A most important moral truth:-- The seeds, which proved the young birds' ruin, Are emblems of their own undoing, Should they neglect, while yet 'tis time, To pluck the early shoots of crime; Or, in their own opinions wise, The counsel of their friends despise.

For evil habits, left to grow, Are ever sure to lead to woe; But checked in time with vigorous hand, Will bend to virtue's firm command.

FABLE LXVIII.

THE WAGGONER AND THE b.u.t.tERFLY.

The rain so soft had made the road, That, in a rut, a waggon-load, The poor man's harvest, (bitter luck!) Sank down a foot, and there it stuck.

He whipped his horses, but in vain; They pulled and splashed, and pulled again, But vainly still; the slippery soil Defied their strength, and mocked their toil.

Panting they stood, with legs outspread; The driver stood, and scratched his head: (A common custom, by-the-bye, When people know not what to try, Though not, it seems, a remedy).

A b.u.t.terfly, in flower concealed, Had travelled with them from the field; Who in the waggon was thrown up, While feasting on a b.u.t.tercup.

The panting of each labouring beast Disturbed her at her fragrant feast; The sudden stop, the driver's sigh, Awoke her generous sympathy.

And, seeing the distressing case She cried, while springing from her place, (Imagining her tiny freight A vast addition to the weight,) "I must have pity--and be gone, Now, master Waggoner, drive on."

MORAL.

Do not admire this b.u.t.terfly, Young reader; I will tell you why.

At first, goodnature seems a cause, Why she should merit your applause; But 'twas conceit that filled her breast: Her self-importance made a jest Of what might otherwise have claimed Your praise,--but now she must be blamed.

Should any case occur, when you May have some friendly act to do; Give all _your feeble aid_--as such, But estimate it not too much.

FABLE LXIX.

THE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX.

A LION and a Bear quarrelling over the carcase of a Fawn, which they found in the forest, their t.i.tle to him had to be decided by force of arms. The battle was severe and tough on both sides, and they fought it out, tearing and worrying one another so long, that, what with wounds and fatigue, they were so faint and weary, that they were not able to strike another stroke. Thus, while they lay upon the ground, panting and lolling out their tongues, a Fox chanced to pa.s.s by that way, who, perceiving how the case stood, very impudently stepped in between them, seized the booty which they had all this while been contending for, and carried it off. The two combatants, who lay and beheld all this, without having strength to stir and prevent it, were only wise enough to make this reflection:--"Behold the fruits of our strife and contention! That villain, the Fox, bears away the prize, and we ourselves have deprived each other of the power to recover it from him."

MORAL.

When fools quarrel, knaves get the prize of contention.

FABLE LXX.

THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.

In days of yore, when a young Fox would take more pains to get a bunch of grapes than a plump, fat goose, an arch young thief cast his eyes on a fine bunch which hung on the top of a poor man's vine, and made him lick his lips like a hound at the sight of a joint of meat. "Oh," said he, "how nice they look! I must have a taste of them, if I die for it;" and with that, up he jumped with all his might, but had the ill-luck not to reach the grapes; yet, as he could not find in his heart to leave them, he tried for them as long as he was able; so he leaped and jumped, and jumped and leaped, till at last he was glad to rest. But when he found all his pains were in vain, "Hang them!" said he, "I am sure they are not fit to eat, for they are as sour as crabs, and would set my teeth on edge for a whole week; and so I shall leave them for the next fool who may chance to come this way."

MORAL.

Some men make light of that which is out of their reach, though at the same time in their hearts they know not what to do for want of it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.]

FABLE LXXI.

THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.

A HARE, who, in a civil way, Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the b.e.s.t.i.a.l train, Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain.

As forth she went, at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.