see,
However new or excellent it be,
Of small account and easy always deem it,
And never worthy of their praise esteem it.
This sort of folks I cannot let go by;
But, for their foolish pertness, I shall try,
Sure as I live, to show them up in rhyme,
If I should waste on them a whole day's time.

The Ant was once relating to the Flea
The wholesome lesson of her industry;
How, by her labor, her support she gains;
How builds the ant-hills; with what care and pains
She gathers up the scattered grains for food;
And how all labor for the common good;
With other instances of enterprise,
That might with many pass for idle lies,
If 't were not every day before our eyes.

To all her statements still the Flea demurred,—
Yet could not contradict a single word—
With talk like this: "Ah, yes, undoubtedly;
I grant it; certainly. O, so I see!
'T is plain. I think so, too, myself. Of course.
All right. I understand. There's better and there worse."

With such evasions, patience growing thin,
Ready almost to jump out of her skin,
Unto the Flea she answered,—"Now, my friend,
To go with me, I beg you, condescend.
And since, in such grand fashion, you assume
All this so mighty easy to be done,
Give us yourself, by way of good example,
Of your own great abilities, a sample."

With impudence unmoved, replied the Flea:
"Pooh, nonsense! Think you thus to puzzle me?
Who couldn't, if they chose to try? But, stay,—
I've an engagement now. Another day
We'll think of it,"—and lightly leaped away.

FABLE X.

THE WALL-FLOWER AND THE THYME.

A Wall-flower spoke,—as I have somewhere read,—
A Thyme-plant growing in a neighboring bed,
In the flower language, scornfully addressing:
"Heaven help you, Thyme! 'Tis really distressing!
Though the most fragrant of all plants, I own,
Scarce a hand's breadth above the ground you've grown."

"Dear friend, that I'm of humble height, 'tis true,
But without help I grow. I pity you,
That cannot rise, even a hand's breadth high,
Without a wall to climb by, if you try."

For writers, who, by clinging to the name
Of others, arrogate an author's fame,—
By adding to a work, perchance a note,
Or a short preface,—this response I quote.

FABLE XI.

THE RABBITS AND THE DOGS.

A Rabbit, whom
Two Dogs pursue,
Into the copse
In terror flew.

Out of his burrow,
At the clatter,
A comrade sprung.—
"Friend, what's the matter?"

"The matter? Zounds!
I'm fairly blown;
By villain hounds
I'm hunted down."

"I see them yonder
Through the furze.
But they 're not hounds."—
"What then?"—"They're curs."

"Curs, hey! Then so
Is my grandmother!
You do not know
The one from t' other."

"Stupid! they 're naught
But mongrel cur."—
"They're hounds, I say."—
"They're curs, good sir."

While they dispute
The dogs arrive;
And both of them
Eat up alive.

Ye who, important
Matters scorning,
Toy with trifles,
Take our warning.

FABLE XII.

THE EGGS.

Beyond the sunny Philippines
An island lies, whose name I do not know;
But that's of little consequence, if so
You understand that there they had no hens;
Till, by a happy chance, a traveller,
After a while, carried some poultry there.
Fast they increased as any one could wish;
Until fresh eggs became the common dish.
But all the natives ate them boiled,—they say,—
Because the stranger taught no other way.
At last the experiment by one was tried—
Sagacious man!—of having his eggs fried.
And, O! what boundless honors, for his pains,
His fruitful and inventive fancy gains!
Another, now, to have them baked devised,—
Most happy thought!—and still another, spiced.
Who ever thought eggs were so delicate!
Next, some one gave his friends an omelette:
"Ah!" all exclaimed, "what an ingenious feat!"

But scarce a year went by, an artiste shouts,
"I have it now,—ye 're all a pack of louts!—
With nice tomatoes all my eggs are stewed."
And the whole island thought the mode so good,
That they would so have cooked them to this day,
But that a stranger, wandering out that way,
Another dish the gaping natives taught,
And showed them eggs cooked à la Huguenot.

Successive cooks thus proved their skill diverse;
But how shall I be able to rehearse
All of the new, delicious condiments
That luxury, from time to time, invents?
Soft, hard and dropped; and now with sugar sweet,
And now boiled up with milk, the eggs they eat;
In sherbet, in preserves; at last they tickle
Their palates fanciful with eggs in pickle.
All had their day—the last was still the best.
But a grave senior thus, one day, addressed
The epicures: "Boast, ninnies, if you will,
These countless prodigies of gastric skill—
But blessings on the man who brought the hens!"

Beyond the sunny Philippines
Our crowd of modern authors need not go
New-fangled modes of cooking eggs to show.

FABLE XIII.

THE DUCK AND THE SNAKE.

On the borders of a pond
Stood a Duck, discoursing thus:
"Nature to me is generous
All creatures else beyond.

For my life, it hath no bound
Water, earth or air within;
I can fly or I can swim,
When a-weary of the ground."

A cunning Snake stood by.
And heard the vaunting strain;
And hissing said, "How vain
To hold yourself so high!

Not on land with the fleet Stag,
Or swift Falcon in the air,
Can you make good your brag:
In the water, too, the Trout
Will beat you out and out:
You with neither can compare."

The wise man knoweth well,
That it is not wisdom's end
In all things to pretend,—
But in something to excel.

FABLE XIV.

THE MUFF, THE FAN, AND THE UMBRELLA.

If some absurd presumption show—
In seeking everything to know,
To serve but for a single use
May also be without excuse.

Upon a table, once, together lay
A Muff, Umbrella, and a Fan.
In dialect such as, in a former day,
The Pot unto the Kettle spoke.
The Umbrella silence broke,
And to his two companions thus began:

"Now pretty articles are not ye both!
You, Muff, in winter serve your purpose well;
But, when spring comes about, in idle sloth
In a dark corner must forgotten dwell.
You, Fan, an useless thing become, in turn,
When heat declines in summer's glowing urn,

And cold winds take your office quite away.
Learn now, from me, a broader part to play.
To shield the head from rains of wintry skies,
I, as