A wag, dining out at a banker's, one day, Had some very small fishes put near him. He saw there were finer ones farther away, So, pretending the fishes could hear him, He mutter'd some words to the poor little creatures, And feign'd to receive their replies. It was done with such grave and unchangeable features, That people all opened their eyes. Then he said that some very particular friend Was <i>en route</i> for the Indies, or thereabouts; And he feared he might come to a watery end, So he wanted some hints of his whereabouts. "The fishes had answered," he added, politely, "That <i>they</i> were too young to reply; But they fancied their fathers could answer him rightly, Should one of them chance to be by." To say that the company relished the jest, Or the jester, is more than I'm able; But it answered his end, for they gave him the best Of the fishes that lay on the table. 'Twas a monster that might have related him stories As much as a century old; Long tales of the sea, of its perils and glories, As wondrous as ever were told. FABLE CLIII. THE RAT AND THE OYSTER. A Rustic Rat, of mighty little sense, Weary of home, would needs go travel thence; And quitted the paternal hearth, one day, To study life in places far away. At each wide prospect, hitherto unscanned, He murmured, "Oh, how beautiful! how grand! Yon mount is Caucasus, begirt with pines; That range, methinks, must be the Apennines." For every molehill, to his wondering eyes, Became a mountain of terrific size. He reached a province of the land, at last, Where Tethys, deity of seas, had cast Some Oysters on the sand, which looked at least Like first-rate frigates to our simple beast. "My father is a timid soul," he said, "Who fears to travel: what an empty dread! As to myself, what marvels I have seen; What scores of wonders, earthly and marine!" Thus boasted he, in magisterial tone, And boasted loud, though speaking all alone. Most rats, I beg to say, are more discreet, And use their lips but when they wish to eat. Meanwhile, one Oyster--a luxurious one-- With shells apart, was basking in the sun. Tasting the balmy breeze, it lay agape,-- A fine fat morsel of seductive shape. The Rat, with moistenings of the under lip (Mistaking still the Oyster for a ship), Ran up, and, smelling something nice to eat, Prepared, straightway, his grinders for a treat. "The crew," quoth he, "have left a feast on board,-- A cold collation, fit for any lord; If it deceive me not, I've got a prize, Or else I do not know the use of eyes." So saying, Master Rat, resolving well, Peered round the pearly margin of the shell. It held him fast: the Oyster from his nap