_Grasp at the shadow and lose the substance--the common fate of those who hazard a real blessing for some visionary good._
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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._
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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 compa.s.sion 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._
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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._
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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 a.s.sistants, 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 pa.s.sed. "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 pa.s.s 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._"
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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 Muller"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.