A man of middle age, whose hair Was bordering on the grey, Began to turn his thoughts and care The matrimonial way. By virtue of his ready, A store of choices had he Of ladies bent to suit his taste; On which account he made no haste. To court well was no trifling art. Two widows chiefly gain'd his heart; The one yet green, the other more mature, Who found for nature's wane in art a cure. These dames, amidst their joking and caressing The man they long'd to wed, Would sometimes set themselves to dressing His party-colour'd head. Each aiming to assimilate Her lover to her own estate, The older piecemeal stole The black hair from his poll, While eke, with fingers light, The young one stole the white. Between them both, as if by scald, His head was changed from grey to bald. 'For these,' he said, 'your gentle pranks, I owe you, ladies, many thanks. By being thus well shaved, I less have lost than saved. Of Hymen, yet, no news at hand, I do assure ye. By what I've lost, I understand It is in your way, Not mine, that I must pass on. Thanks, ladies, for the lesson.' [22] Phaedrus, II.2: Aesop. XVIII.--THE FOX AND THE STORK.[23] Old Mister Fox was at expense, one day, To dine old Mistress Stork. The fare was light, was nothing, sooth to say, Requiring knife and fork. That sly old gentleman, the dinner-giver, Was, you must understand, a frugal liver. This once, at least, the total matter Was thinnish soup served on a platter, For madam's slender beak a fruitless puzzle, Till all had pass'd the fox's lapping muzzle. But, little relishing his laughter, Old gossip Stork, some few days after, Return'd his Foxship's invitation. Without a moment's hesitation, He said he'd go, for he must own he Ne'er stood with friends for ceremony. And so, precisely at the hour, He hied him to the lady's bower; Where, praising her politeness, He finds her dinner right nice. Its punctuality and plenty, Its viands, cut in mouthfuls dainty, Its fragrant smell, were powerful to excite, Had there been need, his foxish appetite. But now the dame, to torture him, Such wit was in her, Served up her dinner In vases made so tall and slim, They let their owner's beak pass in and out, But not, by any means, the fox's snout! All arts without avail, With drooping head and tail, As ought a fox a fowl had cheated, The hungry guest at last retreated. Ye knaves, for you is this recital, You'll often meet Dame Stork's requital. [23] Phaedrus, I. 26; also in Aesop. XIX.--THE BOY AND THE SCHOOLMASTER.[24]