The Heron Who Was Hard To Please.
A long-legged Heron, with long neck and beak, Set out for a stroll by the bank of a creek. So clear was the water that if you looked sharp You could see the pike caper around with the carp. The Heron might quickly have speared enough fish To make for his dinner a capital dish. But he was a very particular bird: His food fixed "just so," at the hours he preferred. And hence he decided 'twas better to wait, Since his appetite grew when he supped rather late. Pretty soon he was hungry, and stalked to the bank. Where some pondfish were leaping--a fish of low rank. "Bah, Bah!" said the Bird. "Sup on these? No--not I. I'm known as a Heron: as such I live high." Then some gudgeon swam past that were tempting to see, But the Heron said hautily: "No--not for me. For those I'd not bother to open my beak, If I had to hang 'round come next Friday a week." Thus bragged the big Bird. But he's bound to confess That he opened his elegant beak for much less. Not another fish came. When he found all else fail, He was happy to happen upon a fat snail.
The Raven Who Would Rival The Eagle.
An Eagle swooped from out the sky, And carried off a sheep. A Raven seeing him, said: "I Could do that too if I should try. His meal comes mighty cheap."
Of all that well-fed flock was one As fat as fat could be. The Raven rose, and lit upon Her back. She seemed to weigh a ton-- So very fat was she.
And, oh! Her wool was wondrous thick: It would have made a mat. The Raven's claws are caught, and stick! He's played himself a pretty trick-- To fly with one so fat.
"Ba, ba!" "Caw, caw!" cry bird and beast. The shepherd comes at last: Sir Raven who would find a feast Is from the woolly one released, And in a cage kept fast.
The Miller, His Son And The Ass.
A Miller and Son once set out for the fair, To sell a fine ass they had brought up with care; And the way that they started made everyone stare.
To keep the Ass fresh, so the beast would sell dear On a pole they slung him. It surely seemed queer: He looked, with heels up, like some huge chandelier.
One person who passed them cried out in great glee. "Was there anything ever so silly?" said he. "Can you guess who the greatest Ass is of those three?"
The Miller at once put the brute on the ground; And the Ass, who had liked to ride t'other way round, Complained in language of curious sound.
No matter. The Miller now made his Son ride, While he followed after or walked alongside. Then up came three merchants. The eldest one cried;
"Get down there, young fellow! I never did see Such manners:--a gray-beard walks where you should be. He should ride, you should follow. Just take that from me!"
"Dear Sirs," quoth the Miller, "I'd see you content." He climbed to the saddle; on foot the boy went... Three girls passed. Said one: "Do you see that old Gent? There he sits, like a bishop. I say it's a shame, While that boy trudging after seems more than half lame." "Little girl," said the Miller, "go back whence you came."
Yet this young creature so worked on his mind That he wanted no woman to call him unkind: And he said to his Son: "Seat yourself here--behind."
With the Ass bearing double they jogged on again, And once more met a critic, who said: "It is plain Only dunces would give their poor donkey such pain. He will die with their weight: it's a shame and a sin. For their faithful servant they care not a pin. They'll have nothing to sell at the fair but his skin."
"Dear me!" said the Miller, "what am I to do? Must I suit the whole world and the world's father, too? Yet it must end some time--so I'll see the thing through."
Both Father and Son now decided to walk, While the Ass marched in front with a strut and a stalk; Yet the people who passed them continued to talk.
Said one to another: "Look there, if you please, How they wear out their shoes, while their Ass takes his ease. Were there ever, d'ye think, three such asses as these?" Said the Miller: "You're right. I'm an Ass! It is true. Too long have I listened to people like you. But now I am done with the whole kit and crew.
"Let them blame me or praise me, keep silent or yell, My goings and comings they cannot compel. I will do as I please!"...So he did--and did well.
