A fox once journey'd, and for company A certain bearded, horned goat had he; Which goat no further than his nose could see. The fox was deeply versed in trickery. These travellers did thirst compel To seek the bottom of a well. There, having drunk enough for two, Says fox, 'My friend, what shall we do? 'Tis time that we were thinking Of something else than drinking. Raise you your feet upon the wall, And stick your horns up straight and tall; Then up your back I'll climb with ease, And draw you after, if you please.' 'Yes, by my beard,' the other said, ''Tis just the thing. I like a head Well stock'd with sense, like thine. Had it been left to mine, I do confess, I never should have thought of this.' So Renard clamber'd out, And, leaving there the goat, Discharged his obligations By preaching thus on patience:-- 'Had Heaven put sense thy head within, To match the beard upon thy chin, Thou wouldst have thought a bit, Before descending such a pit. I'm out of it; good bye: With prudent effort try Yourself to extricate. For me, affairs of state Permit me not to wait.' Whatever way you wend, Consider well the end. [11] Aesop; also in Phaedrus, IV. 9. VI.--THE EAGLE, THE WILD SOW, AND THE CAT.[12] A certain hollow tree Was tenanted by three. An eagle held a lofty bough, The hollow root a wild wood sow, A female cat between the two. All busy with maternal labours, They lived awhile obliging neighbours. At last the cat's deceitful tongue Broke up the peace of old and young. Up climbing to the eagle's nest, She said, with whisker'd lips compress'd, 'Our death, or, what as much we mothers fear, That of our helpless offspring dear, Is surely drawing near. Beneath our feet, see you not how Destruction's plotted by the sow? Her constant digging, soon or late, Our proud old castle will uproot. And then--O, sad and shocking fate!-- She'll eat our young ones, as the fruit! Were there but hope of saving one, 'Twould soothe somewhat my bitter moan.' Thus leaving apprehensions hideous, Down went the puss perfidious To where the sow, no longer digging, Was in the very act of pigging. 'Good friend and neighbour,' whisper'd she, 'I warn you on your guard to be. Your pigs should you but leave a minute, This eagle here will seize them in it. Speak not of this, I beg, at all, Lest on my head her wrath should fall.' Another breast with fear inspired, With fiendish joy the cat retired. The eagle ventured no egress To feed her young, the sow still less. Fools they, to think that any curse Than ghastly famine could be worse! Both staid at home, resolved and obstinate, To save their young ones from impending fate,--