The Hornets and the Bees.

"The artist by his work is known."

A piece of honey-comb, one day, Discover'd as a waif and stray, The hornets treated as their own.

Their t.i.tle did the bees dispute, And brought before a wasp the suit.

The judge was puzzled to decide, For nothing could be testified Save that around this honey-comb There had been seen, as if at home, Some longish, brownish, buzzing creatures, Much like the bees in wings and features.

But what of that? for marks the same, The hornets, too, could truly claim.

Between a.s.sertion, and denial, The wasp, in doubt, proclaim'd new trial; And, hearing what an ant-hill swore, Could see no clearer than before.

"What use, I pray, of this expense?"

At last exclaim'd a bee of sense.

"We've labour'd months in this affair, And now are only where we were.

Meanwhile the honey runs to waste: 'Tis time the judge should show some haste.

The parties, sure, have had sufficient bleeding, Without more fuss of scrawls and pleading.

Let's set ourselves at work, these drones and we And then all eyes the truth may plainly see, Whose art it is that can produce The magic cells, the nectar juice."

The hornets, flinching on their part, Show that the work transcends their art.

The wasp at length their t.i.tle sees, And gives the honey to the bees.

_Would G.o.d that suits at law with us_ _Might all be managed thus!_

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HORNETS AND THE BEES.]

The Oak and the Reed.

The oak one day address'd the reed:-- "To you ungenerous indeed Has nature been, my humble friend, With weakness aye obliged to bend.

The smallest bird that flits in air Is quite too much for you to bear; The slightest wind that wreathes the lake Your ever-trembling head doth shake.

The while, my towering form Dares with the mountain top The solar blaze to stop, And wrestle with the storm.

What seems to you the blast of death, To me is but a zephyr's breath.

Beneath my branches had you grown, Less suffering would your life have known, Unhappily you oftenest show In open air your slender form, Along the marshes wet and low, That fringe the kingdom of the storm.

To you, declare I must, Dame Nature seems unjust."

Then modestly replied the reed: "Your pity, sir, is kind indeed, But wholly needless for my sake.

The wildest wind that ever blew Is safe to me compared with you.

I bend, indeed, but never break.

Thus far, I own, the hurricane Has beat your st.u.r.dy back in vain; But wait the end." Just at the word, The tempest's hollow voice was heard.

The North sent forth her fiercest child, Dark, jagged, pitiless, and wild.

The oak, erect, endured the blow; The reed bow'd gracefully and low.

But, gathering up its strength once more, In greater fury than before, The savage blast O'erthrew, at last, That proud, old, sky-encircled head, Whose feet entwined the empire of the dead!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE OAK AND THE REED.]

The Council held by the Rats.

Old Rodilard, a certain cat, Such havoc of the rats had made, 'Twas difficult to find a rat With nature's debt unpaid.

The few that did remain, To leave their holes afraid, From usual food abstain, Not eating half their fill.

And wonder no one will That one who made of rats his revel, With rats pa.s.s'd not for cat, but devil.

Now, on a day, this dread rat-eater, Who had a wife, went out to meet her; And while he held his caterwauling, The unkill'd rats, their chapter calling, Discuss'd the point, in grave debate, How they might shun impending fate.

Their dean, a prudent rat, Thought best, and better soon than late, To bell the fatal cat; That, when he took his hunting round, The rats, well caution'd by the sound, Might hide in safety under ground; Indeed he knew no other means.

And all the rest At once confess'd Their minds were with the dean's.

No better plan, they all believed, Could possibly have been conceived.

No doubt the thing would work right well, If any one would hang the bell.

But, one by one, said every rat, "I'm not so big a fool as that."

The plan knock'd up in this respect, The council closed without effect.

And many a council I have seen, Or reverend chapter with its dean, That, thus resolving wisely, Fell through like this precisely.

_To argue or refute_ _Wise counsellors abound;_ _The man to execute_ _Is harder to be found._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE COUNCIL HELD BY THE RATS.]

The Two Bulls and the Frog.

Two bulls engaged in shocking battle, Both for a certain heifer's sake, And lordship over certain cattle, A frog began to groan and quake.

"But what is this to you?"

Inquired another of the croaking crew.

"Why, sister, don't you see, The end of this will be, That one of these big brutes will yield, And then be exiled from the field?

No more permitted on the gra.s.s to feed, He'll forage through our marsh, on rush and reed; And while he eats or chews the cud, Will trample on us in the mud.

Alas! to think how frogs must suffer By means of this proud lady heifer!"

This fear was not without good sense.

One bull was beat, and much to their expense; For, quick retreating to their reedy bower, He trod on twenty of them in an hour.

_Of little folks it oft has been the fate_ _To suffer for the follies of the great._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TWO BULLS AND THE FROG.]

The Bat and the Two Weasels.

A blundering bat once stuck her head Into a wakeful weasel's bed; Whereat the mistress of the house, A deadly foe of rats and mice, Was making ready in a trice To eat the stranger as a mouse.

"What! do you dare," she said, "to creep in The very bed I sometimes sleep in, Now, after all the provocation I've suffered from your thievish nation?

Are you not really a mouse, That gnawing pest of every house, Your special aim to do the cheese ill?

Ay, that you are, or I'm no weasel."