Literary Fables of Yriarte - Part 5
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Part 5

This was the Bee's reply: "A work of usefulness May lack variety, And be valued none the less.

But in a work designed To gratify the taste, If we no invention find, Aught else is tedious waste."

FABLE XXI.

THE RAT AND THE CAT.

At telling of rabies old Esop was grand; With his subtile invention, his wisdom so great.

And a story of his, as I have it at hand, Into our own language I now will translate.

"It is plain," said a Rat, at the mouth of his hole, "No distinction more lovely and n.o.ble is found Than fidelity. Therefore it is, on my soul, I love and respect the generous Hound."

A Cat answered, hard by: "This quality fine I a.s.sure you is also a merit of mine."-- "Ah! what's that?" said the Rat, as, in terrible fright He sprang to his hole, and, when safe out of sight, Just poking his nose out, he coolly did call: "You boast of it, hey? I don't like it at all."

The honor which many would freely allow, They retract, when it lights on an enemy's brow.

Now what say you, my reader? "The fable is one Which delights and instructs. It is perfectly done.

Esop had, in these things, a way of his own."

Ah! but look, my good sir; from this noddle of mine It all came. Your friend Esop wrote never a line-- Of the whole.--"Ah, indeed! Then the fable is thine?"

Yes it is, learned man; and I ween you'll not fail.

Being mine, to attack it with tooth and with nail.

FABLE XXII.--XXIII.

THE OWL AND LAMP,

AND

THE DOGS AND THE RAGMAN.

There is a set of dastard knaves, Vile critics, that will wait to make attack On authors till their victims are--alack!-- All safe and quiet in their graves; For living men, they know, might answer back.

To this same purpose, once a little lay My old grandmother sang to me, Recounting how a wandering Owl, one day, Into a convent chanced to make her way;-- I'm wrong--by day it could not be.

For, without doubt, the evening's sun had set Below the horizon long ago.

Now, as she flew along, our Owl she met A Lamp or Lanthorn in the pa.s.sage set-- Which of the two I do not know.

Turning reluctant back, in angry spite, Thus spoke she out her mind: "Ah, Lamp! with what unspeakable delight I'd suck the oil all out of you this night, But that my eyes you blind!

But if I cannot now, Since you are such a blaze of dazzling light,-- If I should find you, on some other night, Unlighted, then, I shall be ready quite To make a feast, I vow."

Denounced though I may be, By coward critics, that I here expose-- Because I dare their meanness to disclose; Their portrait they shall see In yet another fable ere I close.

Beating an old dust pan, A Ragman stood, when, barking furiously As Cerberus, two Dogs, eying him curiously, With vagabondish man, As is their wont--howled savagely.

To them a tall Greyhound Said, "Let the wretch alone,--for he is one Who from dead dogs will strip the reeking skin To sell for bread. No honor can you win On him--for, I'll be bound, From living dogs the conscious rogue will run."

FABLE XXIV.

THE THRUSH, PARROT AND MAGPIE.

A Thrush, who heard a Parrot talking-- Of him, rather than of his instructor, man, Desired himself the mystery to learn.

And, in one lesson, such line accent thought To have attained, that, in his turn, He the great art of speech began To the Magpie to teach; and turned his pupil out A scholar, as accomplished as, no doubt, Are those who will poor copies and translations scan For models--Blunder shocking!

FABLE XXV.

THE WOLF AND THE SHEPHERD.

The Wolf a Shepherd blandly once addressed: "Friend--let me say I really do not know Why you will view me always as a pest; You think me a bad fellow. Faith, I am not so.

What a warm coat my skin in winter yields!

It shelters many a man from cold and wetting; Moreover, too, from sting of flea it shields, And other insects vile your couch besetting.

Against the withering blight of evil eye My claws will screen you--counter charm secure.

My fat for hurts a sovereign remedy-- The uses of my teeth you know, I'm sure."

The Shepherd answered: "Animal perverse!

Upon thy head be Heaven's eternal curse!

On endless mischief bent--no thanks to you If, now and then, some good you chance to do."

To many books, in these our days, my verse Allots the Wolf's foul character and curse.