Chapter XXXVII: Section V: Fables and Symbolic Stories (1)

INTRODUCTORY

_The character and value of fables._ Some one has pointed out that there are two kinds of ideals by which we are guided in life and that these ideals may be compared to lighthouses and lanterns. By means of the lighthouse, remote and lofty, we are able to lay a course and to know at any time whether we are headed in the right direction. But while we are moving along a difficult road we need more immediate illumination to avoid the mudholes and stumbling-places close at hand. We need the humble lantern to show us where we may safely step.

Fables are lanterns by which our feet are guided. They embody the practical rules for everyday uses, rules of prudence that have been tested and approved by untold generations of travelers along the arduous road of life. They chart only minor dangers and difficult places as a rule, but these are the ones with which we are always in direct contact. Being honest because it is the "best policy" is not the highest reason for honesty, but it is what a practical world has found to be best in practice. Fables simply give us the "rules of the road," and these rules contribute greatly to our convenience and safety. Such rules are the result of the common sense of man working upon his everyday problems. To violate one of these practical rules is to be a blunderer, and blundering is a subject for jest rather than bitter denouncement. Hence the humorous and satirical note in fables.

The practical, self-made men of the world, who have done things and inspired others to do them, have always placed great emphasis upon common-sense ideals. Benjamin Franklin, by his _Poor Richard's Almanac_, kept the incentives to industry and thrift before a people who needed to practice these everyday rules if they were to conquer an unwilling wilderness. So well did he do his work that after nearly two hundred years we are still quoting his pithy sayings. It may be that his proverbs were all borrowed, but the rules of the road are not matters for constant experiment. Again, no account of Abraham Lincoln can omit his use of AEsop or of AEsop-like stories to enforce his ideas. His homely stories were so "pat" that there was nothing left for the opposition to say. Only one who grasps the heart of a problem can use concrete illustrations with such effect.

No one really questions the truths enforced by the more familiar fables. But since these teachings are so commonplace and obvious, they cannot be impressed upon us by mere repetition of the teachings as such. To secure the emphasis needed the world gradually evolved a body of striking stories and proverbs by which the standing rules of everyday life are displayed in terms that cling like burrs. "The peculiar value of the fable," says Dr. Adler, "is that they are instantaneous photographs, which reproduce, as it were, in a single flash of light, some one aspect of human nature, and which, excluding everything else, permit the entire attention to be fixed on that one."

_AEsop and Bidpai._ The type of fable in mind in the above account is that known as the AEsopic, a brief beast-story in which the characters are, as a rule, conventionalized animals, and which points out some practical moral. The fox may represent crafty people, the ass may represent stupid people, the wind may represent boisterous people, the tortoise may represent plodding people who "keep everlastingly at it." When human beings are introduced, such as the Shepherd Boy, or Androcles, or the Travelers, or the Milkmaid, they are as wholly conventionalized as the animals and there is never any doubt as to their motives. AEsop, if he ever existed at all, is said to have been a Greek slave of the sixth century B.C., very ugly and clever, who used fables orally for political purposes and succeeded in gaining his freedom and a high position. Later writers, among them Demetrius of Phalerum about 300 B.C. and Phaedrus about 30 A.D., made versions of fables ascribed to AEsop. Many writers in the Middle Ages brought together increasing numbers of fables under AEsop's name and enlarged upon the few traditional facts in Herodotus about AEsop himself until several hundred fables and an elaborate biography of the supposed author were in existence. Joseph Jacobs said he had counted as many as 700 different fables going under AEsop's name. The number included in a present-day book of AEsop usually varies from 200 to 350. Another name associated with the making of fables is that of Bidpai (or Pilpay), said to have been a philosopher attached to the court of some oriental king. Bidpai, a name which means "head scholar," is a more shadowy figure even than AEsop. What we can be sure of is that there were two centers, Greece and India, from which fables were diffused. Whether they all came originally from a single source, and, if so, what that source was, are questions still debated by scholars.

_Modern fabulists._ Modern fables are no more possible than a new Mother Goose or a new fairy story. For modern times the method of the fable is "at once too simple and too roundabout. Too roundabout; for the truths we have to tell we prefer to speak out directly and not by way of allegory. And the truths the fable has to teach are too simple to correspond to the facts in our complex civilization." No modern fabulist has duplicated in his field the success of Hans Christian Andersen in the field of the nursery story. A few fables from La Fontaine, a few from Krylov, one or two each from Gay, Cowper, Yriarte, and Lessing may be used to good advantage with children. The general broadening of literary variety has, of course, given us in recent times many valuable stories of the symbolistic kind. Suggestive parable-like or allegorical stories, such as a few of Hawthorne's in _Twice Told Tales_ and _Mosses from an Old Manse_, or a few of Tolstoy's short tales, are simple enough for children.

_The use of fables in school._ Not all fables are good for educational purposes. There is, however, plenty of room for choice, and those that present points of view no longer accepted by the modern world should be eliminated from the list. Objections based on the unreality of the fables, their "unnatural natural history," are hardly valid. Rousseau's elimination of fables from his scheme of education in _Emile_ is based on this objection and on the further point that the child will often sympathize with the wrong character in the story, thus going astray in the moral lesson. Other objectors down to the present day simply echo Rousseau. Such a view does little justice to the child's natural sense of values. He is certain to see that the Frog is foolish in competing with the Ox in size, and certain to recognize the common sense of the Country Mouse. He will no more be deceived by a fable than he will by the painted clown in a circus.

The oral method of presentation is the ideal one. Tell the story in as vivid a form as possible. In the earlier grades the interest in the story may be a sufficient end, but almost from the beginning children will see the lesson intended. They will catch the phrases that have come from fables into our everyday speech. Thus, "sour grapes," "dog in the manger," "to blow hot and cold," "to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs," "to cry 'Wolf!'" will take on more significant meanings. If some familiar proverb goes hand in hand with the story, it will help the point to take fast hold in the mind. Applications of the fable to real events should be encouraged. That is what fables were made for and that is where their chief value for us is still manifest. Only a short time need be spent on any one fable, but every opportunity should be taken to call up and apply the fables already learned. For they are not merely for passing amusement, nor is their value confined to childhood. Listen to John Locke, one of the "hardest-headed" of philosophers: "As soon as a child has learned to read, it is desirable to place in his hands pleasant books, suited to his capacity, wherein the entertainment that he finds might draw him on, and reward his pains in reading; and yet not such as should fill his head with perfectly useless trumpery, or lay the principles of vice and folly. To this purpose I think _AEsop's Fables_ the best, which being stories apt to delight and entertain a child, may yet afford useful reflections to a grown man, and if his memory retain them all his life after, he will not repent to find them there, amongst his manly thoughts and serious business."

The best AEsop collection for teachers and
pupils alike is _The Fables of AEsop_, edited by
Joseph Jacobs. It contains eighty-two selected
fables, including those that are most familiar
and most valuable for children. The versions
are standards of what such retellings should
be, and may well serve as models for teachers
in their presentation of other short symbolic
stories. The introduction, "A Short History of
the AEsopic Fable," and the notes at the end of
the book contain, in concise form, all the
practical information needed. The text of the
Jacobs versions was the one selected for
reproduction in Dr. Eliot's _Harvard Classics_.
Nos. 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 213, and 233 in
the following group are by Mr. Jacobs. The
other AEsopic fables given are from various
collections of the traditional versions. Almost
any of the many reprints called AEsop are
satisfactory for fables not found in Jacobs.
Perhaps the one most common in recent times is
that made by Thomas James in 1848, which had
the good fortune to be illustrated by Tenniel.
The versions are brief and not overloaded with
editorial "filling."

205

THE SHEPHERD'S BOY

There was once a young Shepherd Boy who tended his sheep at the foot of a mountain near a dark forest. It was rather lonely for him all day, so he thought upon a plan by which he could get a little company and some excitement. He rushed down towards the village calling out "Wolf! Wolf!" and the villagers came out to meet him, and some of them stopped with him for a considerable time. This pleased the boy so much that a few days afterwards he tried the same trick, and again the villagers came to his help. But shortly after this a Wolf actually did come out from the forest, and began to worry the sheep, and the boy of course cried out "Wolf! Wolf!" still louder than before. But this time the villagers, who had been fooled twice before, thought the boy was again deceiving them, and nobody stirred to come to his help. So the Wolf made a good meal off the boy's flock, and when the boy complained, the wise man of the village said:

"_A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth._"

206

THE LION AND THE MOUSE

Once when a Lion was asleep a little Mouse began running up and down upon him; this soon wakened the Lion, who placed his huge paw upon him and opened his big jaws to swallow him. "Pardon, O King," cried the little Mouse; "forgive me this time; I shall never forget it. Who knows but what I may be able to do you a good turn some of these days?" The Lion was so tickled at the idea of the Mouse being able to help him, that he lifted up his paw and let him go. Some time after the Lion was caught in a trap, and the hunters, who desired to carry him alive to the King, tied him to a tree while they went in search of a wagon to carry him on. Just then the little Mouse happened to pass by, and seeing the sad plight in which the Lion was, went up to him and soon gnawed away the ropes that bound the King of the Beasts. "Was I not right?" said the little Mouse.

_Little friends may prove great friends._

207

THE CROW AND THE PITCHER

A Crow, half-dead with thirst, came upon a Pitcher which had once been full of water; but when the Crow put its beak into the mouth of the Pitcher he found that only very little water was left in it, and that he could not reach far enough down to get at it. He tried and he tried, but at last had to give up in despair. Then a thought came to him, and he took a pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. At last, at last, he saw the water mount up near him; and after casting in a few more pebbles he was able to quench his thirst and save his life.

_Little by little does the trick._

208

THE FROG AND THE OX

"Oh, Father," said a little Frog to the big one sitting by the side of a pool, "I have seen such a terrible monster! It was as big as a mountain, with horns on its head, and a long tail, and it had hoofs divided in two."

"Tush, child, tush," said the old Frog, "that was only Farmer White's Ox. It isn't so big either; he may be a little bit taller than I, but I could easily make myself quite as broad; just you see." So he blew himself out, and blew himself out, and blew himself out. "Was he as big as that?" asked he.

"Oh, much bigger than that," said the young Frog.

Again the old one blew himself out, and asked the young one if the Ox was as big as that.

"Bigger, Father, bigger," was the reply.

So the Frog took a deep breath, and blew and blew and blew, and swelled and swelled and swelled. And then he said: "I'm sure the Ox is not as big as--" But at this moment he burst.

_Self-conceit may lead to self-destruction._

209

THE FROGS DESIRING A KING

Frogs were living as happy as could be in a marshy swamp that just suited them; they went splashing about, caring for nobody and nobody troubling with them. But some of them thought that this was not right, that they should have a king and a proper constitution, so they determined to send up a petition to Jove to give them what they wanted. "Mighty Jove," they cried, "send unto us a king that will rule over us and keep us in order." Jove laughed at their croaking, and threw down into the swamp a huge Log, which came down--kersplash--into the water. The Frogs were frightened out of their lives by the commotion made in their midst, and all rushed to the bank to look at the horrible monster; but after a time, seeing that it did not move, one or two of the boldest of them ventured out towards the Log, and even dared to touch it; still it did not move. Then the greatest hero of the Frogs jumped upon the Log and commenced dancing up and down upon it; thereupon all the Frogs came and did the same; and for some time the Frogs went about their business every day without taking the slightest notice of their new King Log lying in their midst. But this did not suit them, so they sent another petition to Jove, and said to him: "We want a real king; one that will really rule over us." Now this made Jove angry, so he sent among them a big Stork that soon set to work gobbling them all up. Then the Frogs repented when too late.

_Better no rule than cruel rule._

210

The following fable is found in the folklore of
many countries. Its lesson of consolation for
those who are not blessed with abundance of
worldly goods may account for its widespread
popularity. Independence and freedom from fear
have advantages that make up for poorer fare.

THE FIELD MOUSE AND THE TOWN MOUSE

A Field Mouse had a friend who lived in a house in town. Now the Town Mouse was asked by the Field Mouse to dine with him, and out he went and sat down to a meal of corn and wheat.

"Do you know, my friend," said he, "that you live a mere ant's life out here? Why, I have all kinds of things at home. Come, and enjoy them."

So the two set off for town, and there the Town Mouse showed his beans and meal, his dates, too, and his cheese and fruit and honey. And as the Field Mouse ate, drank, and was merry, he thought how rich his friend was, and how poor he was.

But as they ate, a man all at once opened the door, and the Mice were in such a fear that they ran into a crack.

Then, when they would eat some nice figs, in came a maid to get a pot of honey or a bit of cheese; and when they saw her, they hid in a hole.

Then the Field Mouse would eat no more, but said to the Town Mouse, "Do as you like, my good friend; eat all you want and have your fill of good things, but you will be always in fear of your life. As for me, poor Mouse, who have only corn and wheat, I will live on at home in no fear of any one."

211

This simple poem is based upon the old fable
preceding. It does not follow out the idea of
the fable, but limits itself to awakening our
sympathy for the garden mouse.

THE CITY MOUSE AND THE GARDEN MOUSE

CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI

The city mouse lives in a house;--
The garden mouse lives in a bower;
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.

The city mouse eats bread and cheese;--
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stocks,
Poor little timid furry man.

212

The most famous use of this fable in literature
is found in the _Satires_ of the great Roman
poet, Horace (B.C. 65-8). He is regarded as one
of the most polished of writers, and the
ancient world's most truthful painter of social
life and manners. Horace had a country seat
among the Sabine hills to which he could retire
from the worries and distractions of the world.
His delight in his Sabine farm is shown clearly
in his handling of the story. The passage is a
part of Book II, Satire 6, and is in
Conington's translation. Some well-known
appearances of this same fable in English
poetry may be found in Prior and Montagu's
_City Mouse and Country Mouse_ and in Pope's
_Imitations of Horace_.

THE COUNTRY MOUSE AND THE TOWN MOUSE

HORACE

One day a country mouse in his poor home
Received an ancient friend, a mouse from Rome.
The host, though close and careful, to a guest
Could open still; so now he did his best.
He spares not oats or vetches; in his chaps
Raisins he brings, and nibbled bacon-scraps,
Hoping by varied dainties to entice
His town-bred guest, so delicate and nice.
Who condescended graciously to touch
Thing after thing, but never would take much,
While he, the owner of the mansion, sate
On threshed-out straw, and spelt and darnels ate.
At length the town mouse cries, "I wonder how
You can live here, friend, on this hill's rough brow!
Take my advice, and leave these ups and downs,
This hill and dale, for humankind and towns.
Come, now, go home with me; remember, all
Who live on earth are mortal, great and small.
Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may;
With life so short, 'twere wrong to lose a day."
This reasoning made the rustic's head turn round;
Forth from his hole he issues with a bound,
And they two make together for their mark,
In hopes to reach the city during dark.
The midnight sky was bending over all,
When they set foot within a stately hall,
Where couches of wrought ivory had been spread
With gorgeous coverlets of Tyrian red,
And viands piled up high in baskets lay,
The relics of a feast of yesterday.
The town mouse does the honors, lays his guest
At ease upon a couch with crimson dressed,
Then nimbly moves in character of host,
And offers in succession boiled and roast;
Nay, like a well-trained slave, each wish prevents,
And tastes before the titbits he presents.
The guest, rejoicing in his altered fare,
Assumes in turn a genial diner's air,
When, hark, a sudden banging of the door!
Each from his couch is tumbled on the floor.
Half dead, they scurry round the room, poor things,
While the whole house with barking mastiffs rings.
Then says the rustic, "It may do for you,
This life, but I don't like it; so, adieu.
Give me my hole, secure from all alarms;
I'll prove that tares and vetches still have charms."

213

The following is the Androcles story as retold
by Jacobs. Scholars think this fable is clearly
oriental in its origin, constituting as it does
a sort of appeal to tyrannical rulers for
leniency toward their subjects.

ANDROCLES

A Slave named Androcles once escaped from his master and fled to the forest. As he was wandering about there he came upon a Lion lying down moaning and groaning. At first he turned to flee, but finding that the Lion did not pursue him, he turned back and went up to him. As he came near, the Lion put out his paw, which was all swollen and bleeding, and Androcles found that a huge thorn had got into it, and was causing all the pain. He pulled out the thorn and bound up the paw of the Lion, who was soon able to rise and lick the hand of Androcles like a dog. Then the Lion took Androcles to his cave, and every day used to bring him meat from which to live. But shortly afterwards both Androcles and the Lion were captured, and the slave was sentenced to be thrown to the Lion, after the latter had been kept without food for several days. The Emperor and all his Court came to see the spectacle, and Androcles was led out into the middle of the arena. Soon the Lion was let loose from his den, and rushed bounding and roaring towards his victim. But as soon as he came near to Androcles he recognized his friend, and fawned upon him, and licked his hands like a friendly dog. The Emperor, surprised at this, summoned Androcles to him, who told him the whole story. Whereupon the slave was pardoned and freed, and the Lion let loose to his native forest.

_Gratitude is the sign of noble souls._

214

The preceding fable is here given in the form
used in Thomas Day's very famous, but probably
little read, _History of Sandford and Merton_.
(See No. 380.) Day's use of the story is
probably responsible for its modern popularity.
Jacobs points out that it dropped out of AEsop,
although it was in some of the medieval fable
books. A very similar tale, "Of the Remembrance
of Benefits," is in the _Gesta Romanorum_ (Tale
104). The most striking use of the fable in
modern literature is in George Bernard Shaw's
play _Androcles_. It will be instructive to
compare the force of Day's rather heavy and
slow telling of the story with that of the
concise, unelaborated version by Jacobs.

ANDROCLES AND THE LION

THOMAS DAY

There was a certain slave named Androcles, who was so ill-treated by his master that his life became insupportable. Finding no remedy for what he suffered, he at length said to himself, "It is better to die than to continue to live in such hardships and misery as I am obliged to suffer. I am determined therefore to run away from my master. If I am taken again, I know that I shall be punished with a cruel death; but it is better to die at once than to live in misery. If I escape, I must betake myself to deserts and woods, inhabited only by wild beasts; but they cannot use me more cruelly than I have been used by my fellow-creatures. Therefore I will rather trust myself with them than continue to be a miserable slave."

Having formed this resolution, he took an opportunity of leaving his master's house, and hid himself in a thick forest, which was at some miles' distance from the city. But here the unhappy man found that he had only escaped from one kind of misery to experience another. He wandered about all day through a vast and trackless wood, where his flesh was continually torn by thorns and brambles. He grew hungry, but could find no food in this dreary solitude. At length he was ready to die with fatigue, and lay down in despair in a large cavern which he found by accident.

This unfortunate man had not lain long quiet in the cavern, before he heard a dreadful noise, which seemed to be the roar of some wild beast, and terrified him very much. He started up with a design to escape and had already reached the mouth of the cave when he saw coming towards him a lion of prodigious size, who prevented any possibility of retreat. The unfortunate man then believed his destruction to be inevitable; but, to his great astonishment, the beast advanced towards him with a gentle pace, without any mark of enmity or rage, and uttered a kind of mournful voice, as if he demanded the assistance of the man.

Androcles, who was naturally of a resolute disposition, acquired courage from this circumstance, to examine his monstrous guest, who gave him sufficient leisure for that purpose. He saw, as the lion approached him, that he seemed to limp upon one of his legs and that the foot was extremely swelled as if it had been wounded. Acquiring still more fortitude from the gentle demeanor of the beast, he advanced up to him and took hold of the wounded paw, as a surgeon would examine a patient. He then perceived that a thorn of uncommon size had penetrated the ball of the foot and was the occasion of the swelling and lameness he had observed. Androcles found that the beast, far from resenting this familiarity, received it with the greatest gentleness and seemed to invite him by his blandishments to proceed. He therefore extracted the thorn, and, pressing the swelling, discharged a considerable quantity of matter, which had been the cause of so much pain and uneasiness.

As soon as the beast felt himself thus relieved, he began to testify his joy and gratitude by every expression within his power. He jumped about like a wanton spaniel, wagged his enormous tail, and licked the feet and hands of his physician. Nor was he contented with these demonstrations of kindness; from this moment Androcles became his guest; nor did the lion ever sally forth in quest of prey without bringing home the produce of his chase and sharing it with his friend. In this savage state of hospitality did the man continue to live during the space of several months. At length, wandering unguardedly through the woods, he met with a company of soldiers sent out to apprehend him, and was by them taken prisoner and conducted back to his master. The laws of that country being very severe against slaves, he was tried and found guilty of having fled from his master, and, as a punishment for his pretended crime, he was sentenced to be torn in pieces by a furious lion, kept many days without food to inspire him with additional rage.

When the destined moment arrived, the unhappy man was exposed, unarmed, in the midst of a spacious area, enclosed on every side, round which many thousand people were assembled to view the mournful spectacle.

Presently a dreadful yell was heard, which struck the spectators with horror; and a monstrous lion rushed out of a den, which was purposely set open, and darted forward with erected mane, and flaming eyes, and jaws that gaped like an open sepulchre.--A mournful silence instantly prevailed! All eyes were turned upon the destined victim, whose destruction now appeared inevitable. But the pity of the multitude was soon converted into astonishment, when they beheld the lion, instead of destroying his defenceless prey, crouch submissively at his feet; fawn upon him as a faithful dog would do upon his master, and rejoice over him as a mother that unexpectedly recovers her offspring. The governor of the town, who was present, then called out with a loud voice and ordered Androcles to explain to them this unintelligible mystery, and how a savage beast of the fiercest and most unpitying nature should thus in a moment have forgotten his innate disposition, and be converted into a harmless and inoffensive animal.

Androcles then related to the assembly every circumstance of his adventures in the woods, and concluded by saying that the very lion which now stood before them had been his friend and entertainer in the woods. All the persons present were astonished and delighted with the story, to find that even the fiercest beasts are capable of being softened by gratitude and moved by humanity; and they unanimously joined to entreat for the pardon of the unhappy man from the governor of the place. This was immediately granted to him, and he was also presented with the lion, who had in this manner twice saved the life of Androcles.

215

THE WIND AND THE SUN

A dispute once arose between the North Wind and the Sun as to which was the stronger of the two. Seeing a Traveler on his way, they agreed to try which could the sooner get his cloak off him. The North Wind began, and sent a furious blast, which, at the onset, nearly tore the cloak from its fastenings; but the Traveler, seizing the garment with a firm grip, held it round his body so tightly that Boreas spent his remaining force in vain.

The Sun, dispelling the clouds that had gathered, then darted his genial beams on the Traveler's head. Growing faint with the heat, the Man flung off his coat and ran for protection to the nearest shade.

_Mildness governs more than anger._

216

The following brief fable has given us one of
the best known expressions in common speech,
"killing the goose that lays the golden eggs."
People who never heard of AEsop know what that
expression means. It is easy to connect the
fable with our "get rich quick" craze. (Compare
with No. 254.)

THE GOOSE WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS

A certain Man had a Goose that laid him a golden egg every day. Being of a covetous turn, he thought if he killed his Goose he should come at once to the source of his treasure. So he killed her and cut her open, but great was his dismay to find that her inside was in no way different from that of any other goose.

_Greediness overreaches itself._

217

The most successful of modern literary
fabulists was the French poet Jean de la
Fontaine (1621-1695). A famous critic has said
that his fables delight the child with their
freshness and vividness, the student of
literature with their consummate art, and the
experienced man with their subtle reflections
on life and character. He drew most of his
stories from AEsop and other sources. While he
dressed the old fables in the brilliant style
of his own day, he still succeeded in being
essentially simple and direct. A few of his 240
fables may be used to good effect with
children, though they have their main charm for
the more sophisticated older reader. (See Nos.
234, 241, and 242.) The best complete
translation is that made in 1841 by Elizur
Wright, an American scholar. The following
version is from his translation. Notice that La
Fontaine has changed the goose to a hen.

THE HEN WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS

LA FONTAINE

How avarice loseth all,
By striving all to gain,
I need no witness call
But him whose thrifty hen,
As by the fable we are told,
Laid every day an egg of gold.
"She hath a treasure in her body,"
Bethinks the avaricious noddy.
He kills and opens--vexed to find
All things like hens of common kind.
Thus spoil'd the source of all his riches,
To misers he a lesson teaches.
In these last changes of the moon,
How often doth one see
Men made as poor as he
By force of getting rich too soon!

218

THE WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING

A Wolf wrapped himself in the skin of a Sheep and by that means got admission into a sheep-fold, where he devoured several of the young Lambs. The Shepherd, however, soon found him out and hung him up to a tree, still in his disguise.

Some other Shepherds, passing that way, thought it was a Sheep hanging, and cried to their friend, "What, brother! is that the way you serve Sheep in this part of the country?"

"No, friends," cried he, turning the hanging body around so that they might see what it was; "but it is the way to serve Wolves, even though they be dressed in Sheep's clothing."

_The credit got by a lie lasts only till the truth comes out._

219

THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE

The Hare one day laughed at the Tortoise for his short feet, slowness, and awkwardness.

"Though you may be swift as the wind," replied the Tortoise good-naturedly, "I can beat you in a race."

The Hare looked on the challenge as a great joke, but consented to a trial of speed, and the Fox was selected to act as umpire and hold the stakes.

The rivals started, and the Hare, of course, soon left the Tortoise far behind. Having reached midway to the goal, she began to play about, nibble the young herbage, and amuse herself in many ways. The day being warm, she even thought she would take a little nap in a shady spot, for she thought that if the Tortoise should pass her while she slept, she could easily overtake him again before he reached the end.

The Tortoise meanwhile plodded on, unwavering and unresting, straight towards the goal.

The Hare, having overslept herself, started up from her nap and was surprised to find that the Tortoise was nowhere in sight. Off she went at full speed, but on reaching the winning-post, found that the Tortoise was already there, waiting for her arrival.

_Slow and steady wins the race._

220

THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS

A Miller and his Son were driving their Ass to a neighboring fair to sell him. They had not gone far when they met with a troop of women collected round a well, talking and laughing.

"Look there," cried one of them, "did you ever see such fellows, to be trudging along the road on foot when they might ride?"

The Miller, hearing this, quickly made his Son mount the Ass, and continued to walk along merrily by his side. Presently they came up to a group of old men in earnest debate.

"There," said one of them, "it proves what I was saying. What respect is shown to old age in these days? Do you see that idle lad riding while his old father has to walk? Get down, you young scapegrace, and let the old man rest his weary limbs."

Upon this, the Miller made his Son dismount, and got up himself. In this manner they had not proceeded far when they met a company of women and children.

"Why, you lazy old fellow," cried several tongues at once, "how can you ride upon the beast while that poor little lad there can hardly keep pace by the side of you?"

The good-natured Miller immediately took up his Son behind him. They had now almost reached the town.

"Pray, honest friend," said a citizen, "is that Ass your own?"

"Yes," replied the old man.

"Oh, one would not have thought so," said the other, "by the way you load him. Why, you two fellows are better able to carry the poor beast than he you."

"Anything to please you," said the Miller; "we can but try."

So, alighting with his Son, they tied the legs of the Ass together, and by the help of a pole endeavored to carry him on their shoulders over a bridge near the entrance of the town. This entertaining sight brought the people in crowds to laugh at it, till the Ass, not liking the noise nor the strange handling that he was subject to, broke the cords that bound him and, tumbling off the pole, fell into the river. Upon this, the old man, vexed and ashamed, made the best of his way home again, convinced that by trying to please everybody he had pleased nobody, and lost his Ass into the bargain.

_He who tries to please everybody pleases nobody._

221

THE TRAVELERS AND THE BEAR

Two Men, about to journey through a forest, agreed to stand by each other in any dangers that might befall. They had not gone far before a savage Bear rushed out from a thicket and stood in their path. One of the Travelers, a light, nimble fellow, got up into a tree. The other, seeing that there was no chance to defend himself single-handed, fell flat on his face and held his breath. The Bear came up and smelled at him, and taking him for dead, went off again into the wood. The Man in the tree came down and, rejoining his companion, asked him, with a sly smile, what was the wonderful secret which he had seen the Bear whisper into his ear.

"Why," replied the other, "he told me to take care for the future and not to put any confidence in such cowardly rascals as you are."

_Trust not fine promises._

222

THE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES

A Lark, who had Young Ones in a field of grain which was almost ripe, was afraid that the reapers would come before her young brood were fledged. So every day when she flew off to look for food, she charged them to take note of what they heard in her absence and to tell her of it when she came home.

One day when she was gone, they heard the owner of the field say to his son that the grain seemed ripe enough to be cut, and tell him to go early the next day and ask their friends and neighbors to come and help reap it.

When the old Lark came home, the Little Ones quivered and chirped round her and told her what had happened, begging her to take them away as fast as she could. The mother bade them be easy; "for," said she, "if he depends on his friends and his neighbors, I am sure the grain will not be reaped tomorrow."

Next day she went out again and left the same orders as before. The owner came, and waited. The sun grew hot, but nothing was done, for not a soul came. "You see," said the owner to his son, "these friends of ours are not to be depended upon; so run off at once to your uncles and cousins, and say I wish them to come early to-morrow morning and help us reap."

This the Young Ones, in a great fright, told also to their mother. "Do not fear, children," said she. "Kindred and relations are not always very forward in helping one another; but keep your ears open and let me know what you hear to-morrow."

The owner came the next day, and, finding his relations as backward as his neighbors, said to his son, "Now listen to me. Get two good sickles ready for to-morrow morning, for it seems we must reap the grain by ourselves."

The Young Ones told this to their mother.

"Then, my dears," said she, "it is time for us to go; for when a man undertakes to do his work himself, it is not so likely that he will be disappointed." She took away her Young Ones at once, and the grain was reaped the next day by the old man and his son.

_Depend upon yourself alone._

223

THE OLD MAN AND HIS SONS

An Old Man had several Sons, who were always falling out with one another. He had often, but to no purpose, exhorted them to live together in harmony. One day he called them around him and, producing a bundle of sticks, bade them try each in turn to break it across. Each put forth all his strength, but the bundle resisted their efforts. Then, cutting the cord which bound the sticks together, he told his Sons to break them separately. This was done with the greatest ease.

"See, my Sons," exclaimed he, "the power of unity! Bound together by brotherly love, you may defy almost every mortal ill; divided, you will fall a prey to your enemies."

_A house divided against itself cannot stand._

224

THE FOX AND THE GRAPES

A Fox, just at the time of the vintage, stole into a vineyard where the ripe sunny Grapes were trellised up on high in most tempting show. He made many a spring and a jump after the luscious prize; but, failing in all his attempts, he muttered as he retreated, "Well! what does it matter! The Grapes are sour!"

225

THE WIDOW AND THE HEN

A Widow woman kept a Hen that laid an egg every morning. Thought the woman to herself, "If I double my Hen's allowance of barley, she will lay twice a day." So she tried her plan, and the Hen became so fat and sleek that she left off laying at all.

_Figures are not always facts._

226

THE KID AND THE WOLF

A Kid being mounted on the roof of a lofty house and seeing a Wolf pass below, began to revile him. The Wolf merely stopped to reply, "Coward! It is not you who revile me, but the place on which you are standing."

227

THE MAN AND THE SATYR

A Man and a Satyr having struck up an acquaintance, sat down together to eat. The day being wintry and cold, the Man put his fingers to his mouth and blew upon them.

"What's that for, my friend?" asked the Satyr.

"My hands are so cold," said the Man, "I do it to warm them."

In a little while some hot food was placed before them, and the Man, raising the dish to his mouth, again blew upon it. "And what's the meaning of that, now?" said the Satyr.

"Oh," replied the Man, "my porridge is so hot I do it to cool it."

"Nay, then," said the Satyr, "from this moment I renounce your friendship, for I will have nothing to do with one who blows hot and cold with the same mouth."

228

THE DOG AND THE SHADOW

A Dog had stolen a piece of meat out of a butcher's shop, and was crossing a river on his way home, when he saw his own shadow reflected in the stream below. Thinking that it was another dog with another piece of meat, he resolved to make himself master of that also; but in snapping at the supposed treasure, he dropped the bit he was carrying, and so lost all.

_Grasp at the shadow and lose the substance--the common fate of those who hazard a real blessing for some visionary good._

229

THE SWALLOW AND THE RAVEN

The Swallow and the Raven contended which was the finer bird. The Raven ended by saying, "Your beauty is but for the summer, but mine will stand many winters."

_Durability is better than show._

230

MERCURY AND THE WOODMAN

A Woodman was felling a tree on the bank of a river, and by chance let slip his axe into the water, when it immediately sank to the bottom. Being thereupon in great distress, he sat down by the side of the stream and lamented his loss bitterly. But Mercury, whose river it was, taking compassion on him, appeared at the instant before him; and hearing from him the cause of his sorrow, dived to the bottom of the river, and bringing up a golden axe, asked the Woodman if that were his. Upon the Man's denying it, Mercury dived a second time, and brought up one of silver. Again the Man denied that it was his. So diving a third time, he produced the identical axe which the Man had lost. "That is mine!" said the Woodman, delighted to have recovered his own; and so pleased was Mercury with the fellow's truth and honesty that he at once made him a present of the other two.

The Man goes to his companions, and giving them an account of what had happened to him, one of them determined to try whether he might not have the like good fortune. So repairing to the same place, as if for the purpose of cutting wood, he let slip his axe on purpose into the river and then sat down on the bank and made a great show of weeping. Mercury appeared as before, and hearing from him that his tears were caused by the loss of his axe, dived once more into the stream; and bringing up a golden axe, asked him if that was the axe he had lost.

"Aye, surely," said the Man, eagerly; and he was about to grasp the treasure, when Mercury, to punish his impudence and lying, not only refused to give him that, but would not so much as restore him his own axe again.

_Honesty is the best policy._

231

THE MICE IN COUNCIL

Once upon a time the Mice being sadly distressed by the persecution of the Cat, resolved to call a meeting to decide upon the best means of getting rid of this continual annoyance. Many plans were discussed and rejected.

At last a young Mouse got up and proposed that a Bell should be hung round the Cat's neck, that they might for the future always have notice of her coming and so be able to escape. This proposition was hailed with the greatest applause, and was agreed to at once unanimously. Upon this, an old Mouse, who had sat silent all the while, got up and said that he considered the contrivance most ingenious, and that it would, no doubt, be quite successful; but he had only one short question to put; namely, which of them it was who would Bell the Cat?

_It is one thing to propose, another to execute._

232

THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE COUNTRYMAN

A certain wealthy patrician, intending to treat the Roman people with some theatrical entertainment, publicly offered a reward to any one who would produce a novel spectacle. Incited by emulation, artists arrived from all parts to contest the prize, among whom a well-known witty Mountebank gave out that he had a new kind of entertainment that had never yet been produced on any stage. This report, being spread abroad, brought the whole city together. The theater could hardly contain the number of spectators. And when the artist appeared alone upon the stage, without any apparatus or any assistants, curiosity and suspense kept the spectators in profound silence. On a sudden he thrust down his head into his bosom, and mimicked the squeaking of a young pig so naturally that the audience insisted upon it that he had one under his cloak and ordered him to be searched, which, being done and nothing appearing, they loaded him with the most extravagant applause.

A Countryman among the audience observed what passed. "Oh!" says he, "I can do better than this"; and immediately gave out that he would perform the next day. Accordingly on the morrow a yet greater crowd was collected. Prepossessed, however, in favor of the Mountebank, they came rather to laugh at the Countryman than to pass a fair judgment on him. They both came out upon the stage. The Mountebank grunts away at first, and calls forth the greatest clapping and applause. Then the Countryman, pretending that he concealed a little pig under his garments (and he had, in fact, really got one) pinched its ear till he made it squeak. The people cried out that the Mountebank had imitated the pig much more naturally, and hooted to the Countryman to quit the stage; but he, to convict them to their face, produced the real pig from his bosom. "And now, gentlemen, you may see," said he, "what a pretty sort of judges you are!"

_It is easier to convict a man against his senses than against his will._

233

Stories dealing with the disastrous effects of
"day-dreaming" are very common in the world's
literature. The three selections that follow
are given as very familiar samples for
comparison. The first is a simple version by
Jacobs.

THE MILKMAID AND HER PAIL

Patty, the Milkmaid, was going to market, carrying her milk in a Pail on her head. As she went along she began calculating what she could do with the money she would get for the milk. "I'll buy some fowls from Farmer Brown," said she, "and they will lay eggs each morning, which I will sell to the parson's wife. With the money that I get from the sale of these eggs I'll buy myself a new dimity frock and a chip hat; and when I go to market, won't all the young men come up and speak to me! Polly Shaw will be that jealous; but I don't care. I shall just look at her and toss my head like this." As she spoke, she tossed her head back, the Pail fell off it and all the milk was spilt. So she had to go home and tell her mother what had occurred.

"Ah, my child," said her mother,

"_Do not count your chickens before they are hatched._"

234

The next is Wright's translation of La
Fontaine's famous fable on the day-dreaming
theme. Notice how much more complicated its
application becomes in contrast with the
obvious truth of the proverb in the preceding
version. La Fontaine is responsible for the
story's popularity in modern times. The most
fascinating study on the way fables have come
down to us is Max Mueller's "On the Migration of
Fables," in which he follows this story from
India through all its many changes until it
reaches us in La Fontaine.

THE DAIRYWOMAN AND THE POT OF MILK

LA FONTAINE

A pot of milk upon her cushioned crown,
Good Peggy hastened to the market town,
Short clad and light, with speed she went,
Not fearing any accident;
Indeed, to be the nimble tripper,
Her dress that day,
The truth to say,
Was simple petticoat and slipper.
And thus bedight,
Good Peggy, light,--
Her gains already counted,--
Laid out the cash
At single dash,
Which to a hundred eggs amounted.
Three nests she made,
Which, by the aid
Of diligence and care, were hatched.
"To raise the chicks,
I'll easy fix,"
Said she, "beside our cottage thatched.
The fox must get
More cunning yet,
Or leave enough to buy a pig.
With little care
And any fare,
He'll grow quite fat and big;
And then the price
Will be so nice,
For which the pork will sell!
Twill go quite hard
But in our yard
I'll bring a cow and calf to dwell--
A calf to frisk among the flock!"
The thought made Peggy do the same;
And down at once the milk-pot came,
And perished with the shock.
Calf, cow, and pig, and chicks, adieu!
Your mistress' face is sad to view;
She gives a tear to fortune spilt;
Then with the downcast look of guilt
Home to her husband empty goes,
Somewhat in danger of his blows.
Who buildeth not, sometimes, in air
His cots, or seats, or castles fair?
From kings to dairywomen,--all,--
The wise, the foolish, great and small,--
Each thinks his waking dream the best.
Some flattering error fills the breast:
The world with all its wealth is ours,
Its honors, dames, and loveliest bowers.
Instinct with valor, when alone,
I hurl the monarch from his throne;
The people, glad to see him dead,
Elect me monarch in his stead,
And diadems rain on my head.
Some accident then calls me back,
And I'm no more than simple Jack.

235

The day-dreaming idea is next presented in the
form found in the story of the barber's fifth
brother in the _Arabian Nights_. Would this
story be any more effective if it had a
paragraph at the end stating and emphasizing
the moral?

THE STORY OF ALNASCHAR