'Poor Philomel, one luckless day, Fell in a hungry falcons way. "If he her life," she said, "would spare, He should have something choice and rare." "What's that?" quoth he. "A song," she says, "Melodious as Apollo's lays, That with delight all nature hears." "A hungry belly has no ears," Replied the hawk, "I first must sup," And ate the little siren up. When strength and resolution fail, Talents and graces nought avail.'[31] Archilochus also wrote fables before Æsop;[32] and even anterior to these is the fable of _The Belly and the Members_, and those given in Holy Scripture. But, without question, Æsop was a true inventor of fables, for it is not to be believed for a moment that Greek genius (and this was the genius of Æsop, whatever his parentage) was not equal to such a task. Doubtless many later, as well as earlier, fables are included under the general designation of 'Æsopian,' by virtue of their resembling in the characteristics of brevity, force and wit the inventions of the sage. Æsop in all probability did not write out his fables; they were handed down by word of mouth from generation to generation. At length they were collected together, first by Diagoras (400 B.C.), and later by Demetrius Phalereus, the Tyrant of Athens (318 B.C.), under the title of 'The Assemblies of Æsopian Fables,' long after the sage's death. This collection was made use of both by the Greek freedman Phædrus, during the reign of Augustus, in the early years of the Christian era, and later by Valerius Babrius, the Roman (230 A.D.). Later again, towards the end of the fourth century, a number of them were translated into Latin by Avienus. The Æsopian fables are distinguished by their simplicity, their mother-wit and natural humour. A score of examples exhibiting these qualities might be cited. A few, not the best known, will suffice: _The Wolf and the Shepherds._--'A wolf peeping into a hut where a company of shepherds were regaling themselves with a joint of mutton--"Lord," said he, "what a clamour would these men have raised if they had caught _me_ at such a banquet!"' The compression and humour of this fable are remarkable, and the obvious moral is: 'That men are apt to condemn in others what they practise themselves without scruple.' _The Dog and the Crocodile_ bids us be on our guard against associating with persons of an ill reputation. 'As a dog was coursing the banks of the Nile, he grew thirsty; but fearing to be seized by the monsters of that river, he would not stop to satiate his drought, but lapped as he ran. A crocodile, raising his head above the surface of the water, asked him why he was in such a hurry. He had often, he said, wished for his acquaintance, and should be glad to embrace the present opportunity. "You do me great honour," returned the dog, "but it is to avoid such companions as you that I am in so much haste."'