the court of Louis XIV could not make him otherwise than natural. Poor and improvident, poverty had no pangs for him. No sorrow ever gave him a sleepless hour. To the last he lived up to his nickname--Bon-homme. And it is the gentle and good man who is always looking out at us at us from the fables he refashioned for all time.

This book contains the following Fables
from the French of La Fontaine:

The Frog Who Wished To Be As Big As The Ox.

There was a little Frog
Whose home was in a bog,
And he worried 'cause he wasn't big enough.
He sees an ox and cries:
"That's just about my size,
If I stretch myself--Say Sister, see me puff!"

So he blew, blew, blew,
Saying: "Sister, will that do?"
But she shook her head. And then he lost his wits.
For he stretched and puffed again
Till he cracked beneath the strain,
And burst, and flew about in little bits.

The Grasshopper And The Ant.

The Grasshopper, singing
All summer long,
Now found winter stinging,
And ceased in his song.
Not a morsel or crumb in his cupboard--
So he shivered, and ceased in his song.

Miss Ant was his neighbor;
To her he went:
"O, you're rich from labor,
And I've not a cent.
Lend me food, and I vow I'll return it,
Though at present I have not a cent."

The Ant's not a lender,
I must confess.
Her heart's far from tender
To one in distress.
So she said: "Pray, how passed you the summer,
That in winter you come to distress?"

"I sang through the summer,"
Grasshopper said.
"But now I am glummer
Because I've no bread."
"So you sang!" sneered the Ant. "That relieves me.
Now it's winter--go dance for your bread!"

The Cat And The Fox.

The Cat and the Fox once took a walk together,
Sharpening their wits with talk about the weather
And as their walking sharpened appetite, too;
They also took some things they had no right to.
Cream, that is so delicious when it thickens,
Pleased the Cat best. The Fox liked little chickens.

With stomachs filled, they presently grew prouder,
And each began to try to talk the louder--
Bragging about his skill, and strength, and cunning.
"Pooh!" said the Fox. "You ought to see me running.
Besides, I have a hundred tricks. You Cat, you!
What can you do when Mr. Dog comes at you?"
"To tell the truth," the Cat said, "though it grieve me
I've but one trick. Yet that's enough--believe me!"

There came a pack of fox-hounds--yelping, baying.
"Pardon me", said the Cat. "I can't be staying.
This is my trick." And up a tree he scurried,
Leaving the Fox below a trifle worried.

In vain he tried his hundred tricks and ruses
(The sort of thing that Mr. Dog confuses)--
Doubling, and seeking one hole, then another--
Smoked