"Poor thing!" says the Dove, "I pity you from my heart. As for me, though I know such things often occur, I should die outright it my dovelets did not love me. But tell me, have you already brought up your little ones? When did you find time to build a nest? I never saw you doing anything of the kind: you were always flying and fluttering about."

"No, indeed!" says the Cuckoo. "Pretty nonsense it would have been if I had spent such fine days in sitting on a nest! That would, indeed, have been the highest pitch of stupidity! I always laid my eggs in the nests of other birds."

"Then how can you expect your little ones to care for you?" says the Turtle-dove.

The Peasant and the Horse

A Peasant was sowing oats one day. Seeing the work go on, a young Horse began to reason about it, grumbling to himself:

"A pretty piece of work, this, for which he brings such a quant.i.ty of oats here! And yet they are all the time saying that men are wiser than we are. Can anything possibly be more foolish or ridiculous than to plough up a whole field like this in order to scatter one's oats over it afterward to no purpose. Had he given them to me, or to the bay there, or had he even thought fit to fling them to the fowls, it would have been more like business. Or even if he had h.o.a.rded them up, I should have recognized avarice in that. But to fling them uselessly away--why, that is sheer stupidity!"

Meanwhile time pa.s.sed; and in the autumn the oats were garnered, and the Peasant fed this very Horse upon them all the winter.

There can be no doubt, Reader, that you do not approve of the opinions of the Horse. But from the oldest times to our own days has not man been equally audacious in criticising the designs of a Providence of whose means or ends he sees and knows nothing?

The Wolf and the Cat

A Wolf ran out of the forest into a village--not to pay a visit, but to save its life; for it trembled for its skin.

The huntsmen and a pack of hounds were after it. It would fain have rushed in through the first gateway; but there was this unfortunate circ.u.mstance against the scheme that all the gateways were closed.

The Wolf sees a Cat on a part.i.tion fence, and says pleadingly, "Vaska, my friend, tell me quickly, which of the moujiks here is the kindest, so that I may hide myself from my evil foes? Listen to the cry of the dogs and the terrible sound of the horns? All that noise is actually made in chase of me!"

"Go quickly, and ask Stefan," says Vaska, the Cat; "he is a very kind man."

"Quite true; only I have torn the skin off one of his sheep."

"Well, then, you can try Demian."

"I'm afraid he's angry with me, too; I carried off one of his kids."

"Run over there, then; Trofim lives there."

"Trofim! I should be afraid of even meeting him. Ever since the spring he has been threatening me about a lamb."

"Dear me, that's bad! But perhaps Klim will protect you."

"Oh, Vaska, I have killed one of his calves."

"What do I hear, friend? You've quarrelled with all the village,"

cried Vaska to the Wolf. "What sort of protection can you hope for here? No, no; our moujiks are not so dest.i.tute of sense as to be willing to save you to their own hurt. And, really, you have only yourself to blame. What you have sown, that you must now reap."

The Eagle and the Mole

An Eagle and his mate flew into a deep forest and determined to make it their permanent abode. So they chose an oak, lofty and wide-spreading, and began to build themselves a nest on the top of it, hoping there to rear their young in the summer.

A Mole, who heard about all this, plucked up courage enough to inform the Eagles that the oak was not a proper dwelling-place for them; that it was almost entirely rotten at the root, and was likely soon to fall, and that therefore the Eagles ought not to make their nest upon it.

But is it becoming that an Eagle should accept advice coming from a Mole in a hole? Where then would be the glory of an Eagle having such keen eyes? And how comes it that Moles dare to meddle in the affairs of the king of Birds?

So, saying very little to the Mole, whose counsel he despised, the Eagle set to work quickly--and the King soon got ready the new dwelling for the Queen.

All goes well, and now the Eagles have little ones. But what happens?

One day, when at early dawn the Eagle is hastening back from the chase, bringing a rich breakfast to his family, as he drops down from the sky he sees--his oak has fallen, and has crushed beneath it his mate and his little ones!

"Wretched creature that I am!" he cries, anguish blotting out from him the light; "for my pride has fate so terribly punished me, and because I gave no heed to wise counsel. But could one expect that wise counsel could possibly come from a miserable Mole?"

Then from its hole the Mole replies: "Had not you despised me, you would have remembered that I burrow within the earth, and that, as I live among the roots, I can tell with certainty whether a tree be sound or not."

The Spider and the Bee

A Merchant brought some linen to a fair. That's a thing everybody wants to buy, so it would have been a sin in the Merchant if he had complained of his sale. There was no keeping the buyers back: the shop was at times crammed full.

Seeing how rapidly the goods went off, an envious Spider was tempted by the Merchant's gains. She took it into her head to weave goods for sale herself, and determined to open a little shop for them in a window corner, seeking thereby to undermine the Merchant's success.

She commenced her web, spun the whole night long, and then set out her wares on view. From her shop she did not stir, but remained sitting there, puffed up with pride, and thinking, "So soon as the day shall dawn will all buyers be enticed to me."

Well, the day did dawn. But what then? There came a broom, and the ingenious creatures and her little shop were swept clean away.

Our Spider went wild with vexation.

"There!" she cried, "what's the good of expecting a just reward? And yet I ask the whole world--Whose work is the finer, mine or that Merchant's?"

"Yours, to be sure," answered the Bee. "Who would venture to deny the fact? Every one knew that long ago. But what is the good of it if there's neither warmth nor wear in it?"

The Cuckoo and the c.o.c.k

"How proudly and sonorously you sing, my dear c.o.c.k!"

"But you, dear Cuckoo, my light, how smoothly flows your long drawn-out note! There is no such singer in all the rest of our forest."

"To you, dear friend, I could listen forever."

"And as for you, my beauty, I protest that when you are silent I scarcely know how to wait till you begin again. Where do you get such a voice?--so clear, so soft, so high! But no doubt you were always like that: not very large in stature, but in song--a nightingale."

"Thanks, friend. As for you, I declare on my conscience you sing better than the birds in the Garden of Eden. I appeal to public opinion for a proof of this."

At this moment a Sparrow, who had overheard their conversation, said to them: