A liar is, most certainly, And should suffer for't as he did. The story tells us That, proposing To journey into foreign lands, A merchant, in the Persian trade-- In friends all confidence reposing-- Agreement with a neighbour made, To leave some iron in his hands. "My metal?" said he, coming back. "Your metal! 'tis all gone, alack! A rat has eaten up the lot! I've scolded all my slaves, God wot! But, in spite of all control, A granary floor <i>will</i> have a hole." The merchant opened well his eyes, And never hinted aught of lies; But soon he stole his neighbour's child, And then he asked the rogue to dine. To which the other answered, wild With anguish, "Sir, I must decline-- I loved a child--I have but one-- <i>I have!</i> What say I? I have none, For he is stolen!" Then replies The Merchant, "With my own two eyes, On yester eve, at close of day, I saw your offspring borne away, With many a struggle, many a howl, To an old ruin, by an owl." "An owl," the father cried, "convey To such a height so big a prey! My son could kill a dozen such; For my belief this is too much!" "I do not that deny," replies His friend, "yet saw it with these eyes; And wherefore should you think it strange That in a land where rats can steal A ton of iron from a grange, An owl should seize a boy of ten, Fly with him to his lofty den. And of him make a hearty meal?" The Fraudulent Trustee perceived Which way the artful story tended, Gave back the goods, the man received His child, and so the matter ended. Between two Travellers, on their road, Dispute arose, in a strange mode:-- The one a story-teller, such As oft are met with, who can't touch On any great or trivial topic, Without the use--that is, abuse-- Of lenses microscopic. With them all objects are gigantic, Small ponds grow huge as the Atlantic. The present instance said he "knew A cabbage once that grew so tall, It topped a lofty garden wall." "I'm sure," replied his friend, "'tis true, For I myself a pot have met, Within which no large church could get." The first one such a pot derided: "Softly, my friend," rejoined the second; "You quite without your host have reckoned; To boil your cabbage was my pot provided!" The man of the monstrous pot was a wag, The man of the iron adroit; And if ever you meet with a man who'll brag, Never attempt to stint him a doit, But match his long bow with your strong bow. FABLE CLXXIV. JUPITER AND THE TRAVELLER.