A treasure in it is conceal'd: The place, precisely, I don't know, But industry will serve to show.

The harvest past, Time's forelock take, And search with plough, and spade, and rake; Turn over every inch of sod, Nor leave unsearch'd a single clod."

The father died. The sons--and not in vain-- Turn'd o'er the soil, and o'er again; That year their acres bore More grain than e'er before.

Though hidden money found they none, Yet had their father wisely done, To show by such a measure, That toil itself is treasure.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PLOUGHMAN AND HIS SONS.]

The a.s.s Dressed in the Lion's Skin.

Clad in a lion's s.h.a.ggy hide, An a.s.s spread terror far and wide, And, though himself a coward brute, Put all the world to scampering rout: But, by a piece of evil luck, A portion of an ear outstuck, Which soon reveal'd the error Of all the panic terror.

Old Martin did his office quick.

Surprised were all who did not know the trick, To see that Martin, at his will, Was driving lions to the mill!

_In France, the men are not a few_ _Of whom this fable proves too true;_ _Whose valour chiefly doth reside_ _In coat they wear and horse they ride._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE a.s.s DRESSED IN THE LION'S SKIN.]

The Woods and the Woodman.

A certain wood-chopper lost or broke From his axe's eye a bit of oak.

The forest must needs be somewhat spared While such a loss was being repair'd.

Came the man at last, and humbly pray'd That the woods would kindly lend to him-- A moderate loan--a single limb, Whereof might another helve be made, And his axe should elsewhere drive its trade.

O, the oaks and firs that then might stand, A pride and a joy throughout the land, For their ancientness and glorious charms!

The innocent Forest lent him arms; But bitter indeed was her regret; For the wretch, his axe new-helved and whet, Did nought but his benefactress spoil Of the finest trees that graced her soil; And ceaselessly was she made to groan, Doing penance for that fatal loan.

_Behold the world-stage and its actors,_ _Where benefits hurt benefactors!--_ _A weary theme, and full of pain;_ _For where's the shade so cool and sweet,_ _Protecting strangers from the heat,_ _But might of such a wrong complain?_ _Alas! I vex myself in vain;_ _Ingrat.i.tude, do what I will,_ _Is sure to be the fashion still._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WOODS AND THE WOODMAN.]

The Fox, the Wolf, and the horse.

A fox, though young, by no means raw, Had seen a horse, the first he ever saw: "Ho! neighbour wolf," said he to one quite green, "A creature in our meadow I have seen,-- Sleek, grand! I seem to see him yet,-- The finest beast I ever met."

"Is he a stouter one than we?"

The wolf demanded, eagerly; "Some picture of him let me see."

"If I could paint," said fox, "I should delight T' antic.i.p.ate your pleasure at the sight; But come; who knows? perhaps it is a prey By fortune offer'd in our way."

They went. The horse, turn'd loose to graze, Not liking much their looks and ways, Was just about to gallop off.

"Sir," said the fox, "your humble servants, we Make bold to ask you what your name may be."

The horse, an animal with brains enough, Replied, "Sirs, you yourselves may read my name; My sh.o.e.r round my heel hath writ the same."

The fox excus'd himself for want of knowledge: "Me, sir, my parents did not educate,-- So poor, a hole was their entire estate.

My friend, the wolf, however, taught at college, Could read it were it even Greek."

The wolf, to flattery weak, Approach'd to verify the boast; For which four teeth he lost.

The high raised hoof came down with such a blow, As laid him bleeding on the ground full low.

"My brother," said the fox, "this shows how just What once was taught me by a fox of wit,-- Which on thy jaws this animal hath writ,-- 'All unknown things the wise mistrust.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FOX THE WOLF AND THE HORSE.]

The Fox and the Turkeys.

Against a robber fox, a tree Some turkeys served as citadel.

That villain, much provoked to see Each standing there as sentinel, Cried out, "Such witless birds At me stretch out their necks, and gobble!

No, by the powers! I'll give them trouble."

He verified his words.

The moon, that shined full on the oak, Seem'd then to help the turkey folk.

But fox, in arts of siege well versed, Ransack'd his bag of tricks accursed.

He feign'd himself about to climb; Walk'd on his hinder legs sublime; Then death most aptly counterfeited, And seem'd anon resuscitated.

A practiser of wizard arts Could not have fill'd so many parts.

In moonlight he contrived to raise His tail, and make it seem a blaze: And countless other tricks like that.

Meanwhile, no turkey slept or sat.

Their constant vigilance at length, As hoped the fox, wore out their strength.

Bewilder'd by the rigs he run, They lost their balance one by one.

As Renard slew, he laid aside, Till nearly half of them had died; Then proudly to his larder bore, And laid them up, an ample store.

_A foe, by being over-heeded,_ _Has often in his plan succeeded._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS.]

The Wallet.

From heaven, one day, did Jupiter proclaim, "Let all that live before my throne appear, And there if any one hath aught to blame, In matter, form, or texture of his frame, He may bring forth his grievance without fear.

Redress shall instantly be given to each.

Come, monkey, now, first let us have your speech.

You see these quadrupeds, your brothers; Comparing, then, yourself with others, Are you well satisfied?" "And wherefore not?"

Says Jock. "Haven't I four trotters with the rest?

Is not my visage comely as the best?

But this my brother Bruin, is a blot On thy creation fair; And sooner than be painted I'd be shot, Were I, great sire, a bear."

The bear approaching, doth he make complaint?

Not he;--himself he lauds without restraint.

The elephant he needs must criticise; To crop his ears and stretch his tail were wise; A creature he of huge, misshapen size.

The elephant, though famed as beast judicious, While on his own account he had no wishes, p.r.o.nounced dame whale too big to suit his taste; Of flesh and fat she was a perfect waste.

The little ant, again, p.r.o.nounced the gnat too wee; To such a speck, a vast colossus she.