Up in a lofty oak the Bees Had made their honey-combs: but these The Drones asserted they had wrought. Then to the bar the cause was brought Before the wasp, a learned chief, Who well might argue either brief, As of a middle nature made. He therefore to both parties said: “You’re not dissimilar in size, And each with each your color vies, That there’s a doubt concerning both: But, lest I err, upon my oath, Hives for yourselves directly choose, And in the wax the work infuse, That, from the flavor and the form, We may point out the genuine swarm.” The Drones refuse, the Bees agree-- Then thus did Justice Wasp decree: “Who can, and who cannot, is plain, So take, ye Bees, your combs again.” This narrative had been suppress’d Had not the Drones refused the test. XIII. ESOP PLAYING. As Esop was with boys at play, And had his nuts as well as they, A grave Athenian, passing by, Cast on the sage a scornful eye, As on a dotard quite bereaved: Which, when the moralist perceived, (Rather himself a wit profess’d Than the poor subject of a jest) Into the public way he flung A bow that he had just unstrung: “There solve, thou conjurer,” he cries, “The problem, that before thee lies.” The people throng; he racks his brain, Nor can the thing enjoin’d explain. At last he gives it up--the seer Thus then in triumph made it clear: “As the tough bow exerts its spring, A constant tension breaks the string; But if ’tis let at seasons loose, You may depend upon its use.” Thus recreative sports and play Are good upon a holiday, And with more spirit they’ll pursue The studies which they shall renew. XIV. THE DOG AND THE LAMB. A Dog bespoke a sucking Lamb, That used a she-goat as her dam, “You little fool, why, how you baa! This goat is not your own mamma:” Then pointed to a distant mead, Where several sheep were put to feed. “I ask not,” says the Lamb, “for her Who had me first at Nature’s spur, And bore me for a time about, Then, like a fardel, threw me out; But her that is content to bilk Her own dear kids, to give me milk.” “Yet she that yean’d you sure,” says Tray, “Should be preferr’d” --“I tell thee nay-- Whence could she know that what she hid Was black or white?--but grant she did-- I being thus a male begot ’Twas no great favor, since my lot Was hour by hour, throughout my life, To dread the butcher and his knife. Why should I therefore give my voice For her who had no pow’r or choice In my production, and not cleave To her so ready to relieve, When she beheld me left alone, And has such sweet indulgence shown?” Kind deeds parental love proclaim, Not mere necessity and name. XV. THE OWL AND THE GRASSHOPPER.