Bertrand and Raton--a Monkey and Cat-- Were messmates in mischief, with roguery fat; There was nothing they feared, there was nothing they spared, And whatever they plundered they usually shared. If anything close by was stealable, they Would never go foraging out of their way. Bertrand stole everything Raton to please, And Raton cared less for the mice than the cheese. One day at the fire, when all clear was the coast, The pair were both spying some chesnuts at roast: To steal a good meal is its pleasure to double; Besides, it would bring the cook's man into trouble. Says Bertrand to Raton, "My brother, you see, Fate's given a moment of glory to thee; Get those chesnuts, and quickly, my brave one, I pray, The gods have vouchsafed us a dinner to-day." And so to snatch chesnuts poor Raton agreed, And at once set to work on the dangerous deed. With gingerly touch he the cinders withdrew, And snatched the hot prizes, first one, and then two. He has pilfered quite half, but has not eaten one; The eating his comrade, Bertrand, has done. A scullion comes--there's adieu to the theft-- And Raton is empty and querulous left. Your nobles are much in a similar case, Who as flatterers dangerous service embrace; And to gratify kings, fingers often will burn, Then homeward, though wiser, still poorer return. FABLE CLXXXII. THE WOLF AND THE STARVED DOG. Once on a time, a little Carp to man Preached all in vain; they put him in the pan. And I repeat, 'tis foolish to let slip The glass that's full, and half way to the lip, In hopes of better wine. The fish was wrong; The fisherman was right, his reason strong. One speaks out boldly when a life's to save; It needs some eloquence King Death to waive; But still I hold I'm right, and don't demur, If from my former text I do not stir. A Wolf, less wise than our good fisherman, Meeting a Dog outside the village, ran To bear him off. The poor Dog pleaded hard That he was thin, and not worth his regard. "My lord, I shall not please you, that is pat; Wait till the marriage, I shall then grow fat And quite myself--when master's daughter's wed." The Wolf believed all that the terrier said. The day expired; he came with faith to see If good had come from this festivity. To Wolf without the Dog spoke through the gate: "Friend, I am coming, if you'll only wait; The porter of our lodge is coming, too, We'll soon be ready, sir, to wait on you." The porter was a mastiff, you must know, Ready to crunch up wolves, and at one blow. The caller paused: "Your servant I remain," He said, and ran and sought the wood again; Swift, but not clever: the remark was made, "This Wolf was not a master of his trade." FABLE CLXXXIII. THE WAX CANDLE.