[Illustration: The Wolves and the Sheep.--Page 45. _Æsop._] THE COCK, THE FOX, AND THE SPRINGE. A fox, who came to a farm at break of day, was caught in a springe, which had been put there for that end. A cock, who sat on the bough of a tree, did not at first dare to go near so dire a foe; but when he saw that the fox could not stir from the spot, he came down from the tree to greet him. The fox said, “Dear bird, you see what has come to me, and all for your sake; for as I crept through the hedge, on my way home, I felt I must come to ask how you are. And now I will beg of you to fetch me a knife to cut this wire.” The cock spoke not, but flew off as fast as he could to tell the news to the men on the farm, who soon came up with a knife with which to cut the wire, and kill the fox. The cock said that he thought those who spoke doves’ words should lead doves’ lives. “Ha!” cries the fox, “he gives twice who gives in a trice.” THE KID AND THE WOLF. A young kid who stood on the roof of a house, out of harm’s way, saw a wolf pass by, and set to work to taunt and tease his foe. But the wolf said, “I hear you. Yet it is not you who mock me, but the roof on which you stand.” Time and place will give to the weak more strength than the strong. THE ASS AND THE LAMB. An ass once lay down in a shed that he might shirk his work, and make known to those who were near what toil was put on him. All the beasts, great and small, came to lend him help. At the same time a poor meek lamb lay at the point of death from want, but none came to give her their aid. “How is it,” said she, “that I lie here in so much need of care, whilst the ass gets all this help?” A fox, who heard her, said, “The ass knows well that the loud bray which he gives by way of thanks, makes the kind acts of his friends well known, and so it swells their pride to help him.” A good deed may spring from a bad source. THE BEES AND THE SNAIL. A snail, one day, made his way through the hole of a bee hive, where, in a great rage, the bees flew round him, and stung him to death. But soon they found that the snail, when dead, was all the more a foe than when he had life, for the air in the hive was not fit to breathe. What was to be done? He was of too great bulk for the bees to turn him out, so they had to leave the hive; and they found, to their cost, that they ought to have let the poor snail just crawl out as he had come in. The bees made a long search for a new home, but in vain, so they went back to their old hive, to see what could be done with the dead snail. And, in the end, they all set to work to build a case of wax round the shell of their guest, so as to close him in a sort of tomb, and thus they made the hive as sweet as the stores that were laid up in the combs. When things come to the worst, they must mend.