A lark had a nest of young birds in a field of corn, and one day two men came to look at the state of the crop. “Well,” says one of them to his son, “I think this wheat is ripe, so now go and ask our friends to help us reap it.” When the old lark came back to her nest, the young brood told her, in a great fright, what they had heard. “So they look to their friends,” said she; “well, I think we have no cause to fear.” The next day the man of the farm came, and saw no friends in the corn field, so he bade his son fetch his kith and kin to help him. This the young birds heard, and told to the old one when she came home to her nest. Quoth she, “I do not see that men go much out of their way to help those that are of the same kith and kin.” In the course of a day or two, as the man found that no one came, he said to his son, “Hark you, John; we will trust to none, but you and I will reap the corn at dawn of day.” “Now,” said the old lark, “we must be gone; for when a man takes his work in his own hands, it is sure to be done.” No eye so good as one’s own; no work so well done. He that by the plow would thrive ... must hold or drive. [Illustration: The Lark and Her Young Ones.--Page 40. _Æsop._] THE KITE, THE SOW, AND THE CAT. A kite had built her nest at the top of an old oak, and in a hole half way up the tree, a wild cat had found a home; while the foot of the tree made a sty for a sow and her young pigs. For some time they all went on in peace, and might have done so to this day, but for the spite of the cat. For, first of all, she crept up to the kite, and said, “Good friend, I have news to tell you, which will plunge us both in grief. The old sow does naught else than grub at the foot of the tree, and we all know what that will come to. It is clear that she means to root it up, that she may kill your young ones. For my part, I will take care of my own, and you can do as you please; but you may be sure I shall watch her well, though I were to stay at home for a month for it.” When she had said this to the kite, she went down and made a call on the sow at the foot of the tree. She put on a grave face, and said, “I hope you do not mean to go out?” “Why not?” said the sow. “Nay,” said she, “you may do as you please; but I heard the kite say to her brood that she would treat them with a pig the first time she saw you go out; and I do not feel sure that she may not take one of _my_ young ones at the same time. So good day to you, for I must look at home, you see.” With these words she went back to her hole.