A Hundred Fables of La Fontaine Part 13

Not less redundant is the tree, So sweet a thing is luxury.

The grain within due bounds to keep, Their Maker licenses the sheep The leaves excessive to retrench.

In troops they spread across the plain, And, nibbling down the hapless grain, Contrive to spoil it, root and branch.

So, then, with licence from on high, The wolves are sent on sheep to prey; The whole the greedy gluttons slay; Or, if they don't, they try.

Next, men are sent on wolves to take The vengeance now condign: In turn the same abuse they make Of this behest divine.

Of animals, the human kind Are to excess the most inclined.

On low and high we make the charge,-- Indeed, upon the race at large.

There liveth not the soul select That sinneth not in this respect.

Of "Nought too much," the fact is, All preach the truth,--none practise.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NOTHING TOO MUCH.]

The Cat and the Fox.

The cat and fox, when saints were all the rage Together went upon pilgrimage.

Our pilgrims, as a thing of course, Disputed till their throats were hoa.r.s.e.

Then, dropping to a lower tone, They talk'd of this, and talk'd of that, Till Renard whisper'd to the cat, "You think yourself a knowing one: How many cunning tricks have you?

For I've a hundred, old and new, All ready in my haversack."

The cat replied, "I do not lack, Though with but one provided; And, truth to honour, for that matter, I hold it than a thousand better."

In fresh dispute they sided; And loudly were they at it, when Approach'd a mob of dogs and men.

"Now," said the cat, "your tricks ransack, And put your cunning brains to rack, One life to save; I'll show you mine-- A trick, you see, for saving nine."

With that, she climb'd a lofty pine.

The fox his hundred ruses tried, And yet no safety found.

A hundred times he falsified The nose of every hound.-- Was here, and there, and everywhere, Above, and under ground; But yet to stop he did not dare, Pent in a hole, it was no joke, To meet the terriers or the smoke.

So, leaping into upper air, He met two dogs, that choked him there.

_Expedients may be too many,_ _Consuming time to choose and try._ _On one, but that as good as any,_ _'Tis best in danger to rely._

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

The Monkey and the Cat.

Sly Bertrand and Ratto in company sat, (The one was a monkey, the other a cat,) Co-servants and lodgers: More mischievous codgers Ne'er mess'd from a platter, since platters were flat.

Was anything wrong in the house or about it, The neighbours were blameless,--no mortal could doubt it; For Bertrand was thievish, and Ratto so nice, More attentive to cheese than he was to the mice.

One day the two plunderers sat by the fire, Where chestnuts were roasting, with looks of desire.

To steal them would be a right n.o.ble affair.

A double inducement our heroes drew there-- 'Twould benefit them, could they swallow their fill, And then 'twould occasion to somebody ill.

Said Bertrand to Ratto, "My brother, to-day Exhibit your powers in a masterly way, And take me these chestnuts, I pray.

Which were I but otherwise fitted (As I am ingeniously witted) For pulling things out of the flame, Would stand but a pitiful game."

"'Tis done," replied Ratto, all prompt to obey; And thrust out his paw in a delicate way.

First giving the ashes a scratch, He open'd the coveted batch; Then lightly and quickly impinging, He drew out, in spite of the singeing, One after another, the chestnuts at last,-- While Bertrand contrived to devour them as fast.

A servant girl enters. Adieu to the fun.

Our Ratto was hardly contented, says one.--

_No more are the princes, by flattery paid_ _For furnis.h.i.+ng help in a different trade,_ _And burning their fingers to bring_ _More power to some mightier king._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MONKEY AND THE CAT.]

The Spider and the Swallow.

"O Jupiter, whose fruitful brain, By odd obstetrics freed from pain, Bore Pallas, erst my mortal foe, Pray listen to my tale of woe.

This Progne takes my lawful prey.

As through the air she cuts her way, My flies she catches from my door,-- Yes, _mine_--I emphasize the word,-- And, but for this accursed bird, My net would hold an ample store: For I have woven it of stuff To hold the strongest strong enough."

'Twas thus, in terms of insolence, Complain'd the fretful spider, once Of palace-tapestry a weaver, But then a spinster and deceiver, That hoped within her toils to bring Of insects all that ply the wing.

The sister swift of Philomel, Intent on business, prosper'd well; In spite of the complaining pest, The insects carried to her nest-- Nest pitiless to suffering flies-- Mouths gaping aye, to gormandize, Of young ones clamouring, And stammering, With unintelligible cries.

The spider, with but head and feet, And powerless to compete With wings so fleet, Soon saw herself a prey.

The swallow, pa.s.sing swiftly by, Bore web and all away, The spinster dangling in the sky!

_Two tables hath our Maker set_ _For all that in this world are met._ _To seats around the first_ _The skilful, vigilant, and strong are beckon'd:_ _Their hunger and their thirst_ _The rest must quell with leavings at the second._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SPIDER AND THE SWALLOW.]

The Dog whose Ears were Cropped.

"What have I done, I'd like to know, To make my master maim me so?

A pretty figure I shall cut!

From other dogs I'll keep, in kennel shut.

Ye kings of beasts, or rather tyrants, ho!

Would any beast have served you so?"

Thus Growler cried, a mastiff young;-- The man, whom pity never stung, Went on to prune him of his ears.

Though Growler whined about his losses, He found, before the lapse of years, Himself a gainer by the process; For, being by his nature p.r.o.ne To fight his brethren for a bone, He'd oft come back from sad reverse With those appendages the worse.

All snarling dogs have ragged ears.

The less of hold for teeth of foe, The better will the battle go.

When, in a certain place, one fears The chance of being hurt or beat, He fortifies it from defeat.

Besides the shortness of his ears, See Growler arm'd against his likes With gorget full of ugly spikes.

A wolf would find it quite a puzzle To get a hold about his muzzle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DOG WHOSE EARS WERE CROPPED.]