RY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LIBRARY OF 
 
 RY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LIBRARY OF 
 
LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 [Y OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 f 
 
 
9 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES; 
 
 AND 
 
 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 BY E. L. AVELINE. 
 
 A NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION. 
 
 " Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 In 
 
 DESIGNED, THEOTJGHI THE MEDIUM O1P AMUSEMEKT, TO 
 
 CONVEY TO CHILDREN SOME USEFUL PEECEPTS 
 
 OP VIRTUE AND BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 BY E. L. AVELINE, 
 
 Author of "Simple Ballads," &c., Sec. 
 
 A NEW EDITION,TO WHICH IS ADDE3> 
 
 (POR THE FIRST TIME) 
 
 TALES AND EABLES. 
 
 IN VERSE 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOE. 
 "WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILLIAM HARVEY. 
 
 LONDON: JAMES HOGG- & SONS. 
 
PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION. 
 
 THE popularity of " The Mother's Fables," on 
 their first publication nearly half a century 
 ago, obtained for that pleasant and instructive 
 little volume, a wide circulation. The book has 
 been out of print for some years, and in pre- 
 paring a new Edition for the press, the friends 
 of the Author now add, for the first time, in a 
 complete form, the " Tales and Eables in Verse ;" 
 one or two of which, published at intervals, 
 have become " household words " with the 
 young. 
 
 LONDON, July, 1861. 
 
PART I. 
 
 THE MOTHER'S FABLES 
 
 In 
 
 DESIGNED, THROUGH THE MEDIUM OF AMUSEMENT, 
 
 TO CONVEY TO THE MINDS OF CHILDREN 
 SOME USEUL PRECEPTS OF VIRTUE AND BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 " Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
PREFACE TO THE HRST EDITION. 
 
 THE difficulty of bringing home to the under- 
 standings of children the moral of a fable, must 
 have been experienced by all who have attended 
 to the impression which such compositions 
 usually make on young minds. It is obvious, 
 that their attention and curiosity end with the 
 fable ; and the application which follows is irk- 
 some to them ; its intention, therefore, is lost. 
 
 The plan of the author, in the following little 
 volume, is, so to prepare young readers, that 
 they may, without difficulty, apply the fables 
 themselves ; for which purpose, each of them is 
 preceded by an introduction, explaining the 
 occasion on which it was delivered, and pointing 
 out the fault intended to be exposed and cor- 
 rected. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 PART I. 
 
 THE MOTHER'S EABLES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE MIMIC 15 
 
 ITie Mocking Bird 16 
 
 THE FALSE ALARM 18 
 
 The Elephant and Fly 18 
 
 THE SELF-CONCEITED LITTLE MAN 20 
 
 The Partridge and her Young 21 
 
 A VAIN LITTLE GIRL 24 
 
 The Grasshopper and the Silkworm 25 
 
 ROSE Is LAZY 26 
 
 Sliock and Doctor CJianticleer 27 
 
 CHAEITT WITHOUT CHARITY 31 
 
 The Honey-Guide 32 
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT 33 
 
 Cats and Dogs 34 
 
 CHARLES WISHES FOR A LONG LIFE 37 
 
 The Young Oak 38 
 
 SOPHIA COMPLAINS OF THE FROGS 39 
 
 The Frog's Song 39 
 
 THE MISTAKE 40 
 
 The Lily of the Valley ,. .- 40 
 
 SOPHIA is DISOBEDIENT 24 
 
 The Undutiful Kid 43 
 
 FALSE COURAGE, AND TRUE COURAGE 46 
 
 The Lamb and the Serpent. 46 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE VAIW WISH 48 
 
 To the Cuckoo 48 
 
 ALWAYS SPEAK TRUTH 50 
 
 The travelled Parrots 50 
 
 CHARLES TAUGHT HUMANITY 53 
 
 The Cruel Cub 54 
 
 SOPHIA A LITTLE PEDANT 56 
 
 The conceited young Owl 56 
 
 THE ILL-NATURED SCHOOL-FELLOW 59 
 
 The Rattlesnake. 59 
 
 THE EVENING WALK 60 
 
 The Fox and the Hen 61 
 
 SOPHIA'S ALARM 64 
 
 The Friendly Conference 65 
 
 ROSE'S MISTAKE 63 
 
 The Gnat and the Bull 68 
 
 SOPHIA'S REQUEST 70 
 
 The Lark to his Mistress 70 
 
 THE FOOLISH DISPUTE 71 
 
 The Butterfly's Law-suit 72 
 
 ROSE is VAIN 75 
 
 The Vain Swan.... 76 
 
 ROSE CORRECTED 77 
 
 The Discontented Ant. 77 
 
 PRIDE REPROVED 79 
 
 The Sunflower and Marigolds 80 
 
 CHARLES Is INATTENTIVE 81 
 
 The Careless Fawn 82 
 
 COUSIN HENRY'S VISIT 86 
 
 The Quarrelsome Daw 86 
 
 EDWARD TEASES A HELPLESS BOY 89 
 
 The Owl and other Birds 90 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE GOSSIPPING GOOSE 97 
 
 THE ROBBER WASP Avarice 99 
 
 THE SATIRICAL MONKEY 101 
 
 THE BLIND MOLE 102 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE FIRE 104 
 
 THE GUARA BIRD 105 
 
 THE CAT GOING FISHING 108 
 
 THE CUCKOO AND STARLING Egotism 109 
 
 THE ANTELOPE Curiosity 110 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER AND WAGGONER ; or, Self-importance 112 
 
 THE CHATTERING MAGPIE 113 
 
 THE CARELESS KITTEN 114, 
 
 THE NERVOUS SPARROW Discontent 116 
 
 THE Fox AND THE Ass Misapplied talents 119 
 
 THE MONKEY'S REVENGE 120 
 
 THE ANT-LION'S DEN 121 
 
 THE LYING TRAVELLER Exaggeration 124 
 
 THE OWL AND THE RAVEN Pride of Family 127 
 
 THE EAGLE AND WREN 129 
 
 MISPLACED PITY 131 
 
 THE FISHES' SONG 131 
 
 THE MUSICAL Ass The Blindness of Self-Admiration ... 134 
 
 LITTLE FRANK AND HIS SISTER 136 
 
 THE CONCEITED DONKEY "It's enough to crouch to a 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE ENYiotrs KID 140 
 
 THE BUTTERPLY AND THE SNAIL.... 141 
 
 THE WADDLING DUCK Accuse not others of the faults 
 
 we ourselves commit 146 
 
 THE TULIP AND DAISY Pride , 147 
 
 THE FIELD-MOUSE OP THE AFRICAN DESERT 149 
 
 THE Two FAWNS 150 
 
 FLOWERS OP THE OCEAN 157 
 
 THE SNOWDROP'S COMPLAINT 157 
 
 SONG TO THE BEE 158 
 
 THE HEARTSEASE 159 
 
 THE ROBIN RELEASED FROM ITS CAGE 160 
 
 THE EGGER MOTH.. ... M ............. 161 
 
 THE BALSAM TREE..............^^....... 163 
 
 THE GLOWWORM 164 
 
 THE SAILOR-BOY TO THE SWALLOW 165 
 
 THE TWELVE MONTHS 166 
 
 THE PRIMROSE. .................................. 169 
 
 THE ECHO 170 
 
 THE YOUNG GIRL AND THE NIGHTINGALE 171 
 
 THE GOSSAME' ; BOAT 172 
 
 THE GIRL IN TTTE DISTANT CITY (to a wandering bird}... 173 
 
 THE WOODMOUSE'S HOME 175 
 
 THE BLIND CHILD TO HER MOTHEE (from the German}... 177 
 
 DEATH IN THE VILLAGE 178 
 
 THE WHITE SJHP......................^,^.., 180 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 THE MIMIC. 
 
 Mamma, I lisp like Lucy Price ; 
 
 ! I can take her off so nice : 
 
 And nurse, who speaks so odd, you know, 
 
 You'd be surprised, I mock her so: 
 
 And then I say, vhat, vhen, and vhy 3 
 
 Like Mrs. Scott, so vulgarly ; 
 
 Tor, all the while, she cannot tell 
 
 But that I'm really speaking well. 
 
 But Charles and Rose, they laugh'd outright, 
 
 When she was here the other night ! 
 
 Indeed, my love ! I'm hurt to see 
 Tour cruel trick of mimicry; 
 I fear you quite forget to do 
 The same as you'd be done unto; 
 And when infirmities are mock'd, 
 I must coni'ess I'm really shock'd. 
 
16 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 "Tis so unkind, it makes me fear 
 There's something bad at heart, my dear. 
 'Twould give me pain, I can't express, 
 To think it more than thoughtlessness. 
 
 Poor nurse ! you ought to recollect 
 Her age and kindness with respect ; 
 And Mrs. Scott, when she was young, 
 Was never taught her mother-tongue, 
 As you have been, and yet I know 
 She'd be too good to treat you so. 
 'Tis not too late, my dear, to mend, 
 Or else you'll never have a friend ; 
 And 'twould be paying dear for fun, 
 To be dislik'd by any one. 
 Perhaps, Sophia never heard 
 The fable of the Mocking Bird. 
 
 THE MOCKING BIRD.* 
 
 They tell us that the mocking bird 
 
 Sings like the nightingale ; 
 And in the summer nights is heard 
 
 In many a pleasant vale. 
 
 Yet, not contented with her song, 
 
 All other sounds she mocks ; 
 Now growls, to drive the sheep along ; 
 
 Now screams, to cheat the fox. 
 
 * The mocking-bird is possessed, not only of its own natural 
 notes, which are musical and solemn, but it can assume the tone 
 of every other animal iu the wood, from the wolf to the raven, 
 and appears to amuse itself with leading them astray. 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 17 
 
 There's not a note in all the wood, 
 
 But she is sure to hit ; 
 A raven's croak, in murky mood ; 
 
 A cuckoo or torn-tit. 
 
 But (every mimic finds the same) 
 
 Eor all she was so witty, 
 A single friend she could not name ' 9 
 
 She'd neither love nor pity ! 
 
 At first she felt too light and vain, 
 
 To think or care about it ; 
 But when in trouble and in pain, 
 
 J Twas sad to do without it. 
 
 Por, once, a raven heard her try 
 
 To imitate his croaking, 
 And snapp'd her wing, in passing by, 
 
 To cure her of her joking. 
 
 Then many a bitter wail she made, 
 
 And call'd her friends to see ; 
 But no one even turn'd his head, 
 
 Eor not a friend had she. 
 
 At length, she scrambled to her nest, 
 
 Half fainting with exertion ; 
 And many a thing she sat and guess'd, 
 
 T' account for such desertion. 
 
 Poor wretched me, what have I done, 
 
 So innocent and merry ? 
 I never rail'd at any one, 
 
 Nor wrong'd him of a berry ! 
 
18 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Ah me ! my silly, silly wit, 
 Is why I'm thus forsaken ; 
 
 I thought I was admir'd for it, 
 But how 1 was mistaken ! 
 
 THE FALSE ALARM. 
 " What dismal screams are those I hear ? 
 Why, Sophy, is their danger near ? " 
 
 "Mamma, I'm scratch' d my frock is torn, 
 I've been entangled with a thorn; 
 In such a place ! you do not know, 
 The nasty thorns have prick'd me so !" 
 
 " And am I put in this alarm, 
 Because a hoyden scratch'd her arm ? 
 By such a loud and fearful scream, 
 I thought you'd fallen in the stream ; 
 And tremble even now, with fear ! 
 You ought to be asham'd, my dear. 
 You know you shriek'd the other day, 
 When Charles but pinch'd you in his play ; 
 So that our neighbours kindly sent, 
 To learn the dreadful accident. 
 Come, dry your fears, and, when you're able, 
 Attend, and profit by a fable." 
 
 THE ELEPHANT AND FLY. 
 
 The roaring of an elephant was heard one summer day, 
 So loud and long, that every one was startled with 
 dismay; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 19 
 
 And all his friends assembled in the thickest of the 
 
 wood, 
 To ask what was the matter, and to help him, if 
 
 they could. 
 
 Oh! sure, they cried, he has become the cruel 
 
 hunter's spoil, 
 
 And now he roars indignantly within their artful toil ; 
 Or has, at last, his callous hide receiv'd the fatal dart, 
 Which floods some dreary cavern with the life-blood 
 
 from his heart ? 
 
 Then fast they hurried onward, though they all were 
 
 filPd with fear, 
 Tor every one had little doubt that danger must be 
 
 near; 
 
 Yet not a single elephant would cowardly retreat, 
 Though fearful that a pitfall wide would open at his 
 
 feet. 
 
 Still would they not forsake their friend, but trotted 
 
 through the wood, 
 O'er brake, and brier, and bog, and pool, as nimbly 
 
 as they could , 
 But when, at last, they found him out, no hunters 
 
 could they see ; 
 No pitfall had betray'd his steps, and not a wound 
 
 had he. 
 
 His eye was dim and sorrowful, his head was low 
 decliu'd, 
 
 And, therefore, they conclude at once, there's some- 
 thing on his mind ; 
 
 B 2 
 
20 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 And with a look most pitiful, partaking of his grief, 
 Enquire if they can sooth him, or administer relief. 
 
 Rejoic'd was he to see his friends, and said that they 
 
 should know 
 The cause he had for discontent, and why he bellow' d 
 
 so; 
 And then he gave a peevish grunt, and look'd so very 
 
 sad, 
 That every one prepar'd himself to hear of something 
 
 bad. 
 
 My friends, he cried, I laid me down by yonder river's 
 
 brink, 
 And in my dream, I thought myself just stooping down 
 
 to drink ; 
 
 But at the very moment, as I panted for the spring, 
 The largest fly you ever saw awoke me with his sting ! 
 
 They stamp'd with indignation, and their bosoms 
 
 burn'd with rage, 
 
 And every one seemed half inclined a civil war to wage ; 
 But feeling that beneath them, they departed with a 
 
 sneer, 
 And vow'd they'd never mind him, if he roar'd for 
 
 half a year! 
 
 THE SELE-CONCEITED LITTLE MAN. 
 If I were king, and I could rule, 
 I'd not go back again to school. 
 Mamma, I've read my books all through, 
 And now I must have something new ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 21 
 
 I know them almost all by heart, 
 
 And think that's plenty, for my part. 
 
 Sometimes I make the scholars stare, 
 
 For I know more than any there. 
 
 To hear some read, you'd think 'twas Dutch, 
 
 And even master don't know much ! 
 
 I only wish I might have gone 
 
 To Eaton school, with cousin John ; 
 
 For here, as far as I can see, 
 
 There's nothing more that's fit for me. 
 
 Well, Edward, then I do suppose 
 Your education here must close, 
 Since you're beyond your master's reach, 
 And nothing's left for him to teach. 
 But, Edward if you did but know, 
 5 Tis ignorance persuades you so ! 
 Tor else you never could pretend, 
 To be almost too wise to mend. 
 What, if you've read your lessons through, 
 Is nothing good but what is new ? 
 ! Edward, hide that foolish face, 
 And from a fable learn your place. 
 
 THE PARTRIDGE AND HER YOUNG. 
 
 The corn was changed to yellow red, 
 The winds of autumn waved its head; 
 A field there was, where thick it stood, 
 And sheltered many a feathered brood. 
 
22 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 While round about the sky-lark sung, 
 A partridge there had reared her young; 
 And being of her children vain, 
 She loved to see them in her train. 
 
 They now could make their pinions sound, 
 And flutter fast along the ground ; 
 And strove to fly, or swiftly raced, 
 Or through the corn each other chased. 
 
 The eldest, stronger than the rest, 
 Was often straying trom the nest ; 
 Por birds of spirit could not bear 
 So much, he said, of mother's care. 
 
 He soon disdained, in self-conceit, 
 To ramble only in the wheat ; 
 The field he knew at every turn, 
 And nothing fresh was left to learn. 
 
 He now should like to try the air, 
 And join the cheerful parties there 
 He sure had strength enough to fly, 
 And wings to bear him through the sky. 
 
 He flaps them oft, and longs to find 
 His little brothers left behind ; 
 And thinks within himself, that he 
 A monstrous clever bird must be 1 
 
 One day, upon a rising ground, 
 With all the nestlings gathered round, 
 He bade them see to what a height 
 He's able now to take a flight. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 23 
 
 And then, a yard or two he flies, 
 Exciting wonder and surprise ; 
 His little breast with triumph glows, 
 At every foot he higher goes. 
 
 At length, assisted by the breeze, 
 He's borne aloft above the trees, 
 With eager joy he struggles long, 
 And beats his pinions fast and strong. 
 
 The breeze is brisk, as brisk can be; 
 But now it sinks, and so does he ; 
 Now, round and round he flutters fast, 
 And tumbles over-head at last. 
 
 The others, who with wondering eyes 
 Had watched their brother in the skies, 
 Now reach the place, where, almost dying, 
 He mourns his self-conceit in flying. 
 
 " For my presumption, now you see 
 What sad misfortune's come on me; 
 Do you my pride and folly shun, 
 And be content awhile to run. 
 
 " ! do not even fly in play, 
 
 Until our mother says you may ; 
 
 She would not keep us to the nest, 
 
 Unless she knew that it was best. 
 " Tell her I promise, if I live, 
 
 And she my folly will forgive, 
 
 To be content, and not to try, 
 
 Till she has taught me how to fly." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 A YAIN LITTLE GIRL. 
 
 "Mam ma,. I thought, the other day, 
 'Twas strange Miss Audley did not play; 
 It seems to me a foolish thing, 
 She does not even learn to sing ! 
 Daar me, how awkward she must feel ; 
 She can't, you know, be thought genteel : 
 'Tis well enough for poor Miss Waters, 
 But not for better people's daughters." 
 
 " My dear, I really blush to see 
 Your ignorance and vanity ! 
 Miss Audley's father is a man 
 Who goes upon a better plan, 
 And seeks those lessons to impart 
 That form the mind and mend the heart. 
 To make her good is his intent, 
 Without much show and ornament. 
 Indeed, I see myself, with pain, 
 It often makes young people vain ; 
 
 And fonder of a little show, 
 
 Than all the things they ought to know : 
 
 And really I'm concerned to hear 
 
 Miss Waters treated so, my dear ; 
 
 She has a useful education, 
 
 .becoming to her proper station ; 
 
 And is a child that I admire, 
 
 Much more than some a great deal higher. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 25 
 
 I only wish that you may be 
 But half as excellent as she ; 
 And then I should but little care, 
 To find you could not play an air." 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE SILKWORM. 
 
 A Grasshopper, so pert and vain, 
 To her companions would complain, 
 
 How ungenteelwere they; 
 'Tis only she that sweetly sings, 
 For all the rest are poor dull things, 
 
 Who neither sing nor play ! 
 
 She ridiculed the Bee, her neighbour, 
 Tor his incessant toil and labour, 
 
 Tor ever on the wing ! 
 By far too busy in his shop, 
 To learn the fashionable hop ; 
 
 Poor common, vulgar thing ! 
 
 " There's Spider, with his look of gloom, 
 Sits like a weaver at his loom, 
 
 With manners just as low ; 
 Now, if he'd come and learn of me, 
 Soon all the fashion he should be, 
 
 And quite the garden beau. 
 
 " Yet do not say I love to rail^ 
 Tor as to honest neighbour Snail, 
 I quite admire her knack ; 
 
26 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Eor if she ever likes to roam, 
 Poor dear, instead of leaving home, 
 She brings it on her back !" 
 
 Thus prated on, this pert Grasshopper, 
 Until a Silkworm deigned to stop her, 
 
 And just left off to say: 
 " So, madam, we then have no taste, 
 Because our lives we will not waste, 
 
 And throw our time away ! 
 
 " You lady of accomplishment, 
 Who think that life is wisely spent, 
 
 To learn a fiddler's skill; 
 When those light limbs have lost their spring, 
 And you can neither dance nor sing, 
 
 You'll find you've chosen ill." 
 
 ROSE IS LAZY. 
 
 " ! Rose, for shame ! what, just awake ! 
 Why not your sister's walk partake ? 
 She's been, she says, a lovely way, 
 And looks so rosy and so gay ! 
 Your maid has called you, but I find, 
 You did not care, and did not mind ! 
 I'm not surprised you're weak and faint, 
 But who will pity your complaint? 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 27 
 
 Yawning and listless all the day, 
 You've hardly spirits for your play; 
 But do not wonder at disease, 
 After such lazy fits as these. 
 
 Besides, my dear, it is a crime 
 To waste a moment of our time. 
 But come, a lesson you shall hear 
 From Stiock and Doctor Chanticleer." 
 
 SHOCK AND DOCTOR CHANTICLEER. 
 
 A lap-dog on a cushion lay, 
 
 And there he slumber'd all the day; 
 
 From early morn till closing night 
 
 To slumber there was his delight. 
 
 Yet far from quiet rest was he ; 
 
 He had one mortal enemy ; 
 
 Hard by a noisy dunghill cock 
 
 Disturb'd the peace of pamper'd Shock. 
 
 If now he sinks to short repose, 
 
 He's soon awaken' d from his doze, 
 
 For Chanticleer, with sudden screams, 
 
 Disturbs his sleep and spoils his dreams. 
 
 At length, his patience being gone, 
 
 He put a look of courage on ; 
 
 And, though he felt the labour hard, 
 
 Resolv'd to travel to the yard, 
 
 To find his foe, and to protest 
 
 He could not bear such broken rest. 
 
28 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 But when lie reach'd the garden gate, 
 Poor Shock was in a dismal state 
 Another step he could not stir ! 
 But met the friendly kitchen cur, 
 Who begged to know from what disaster 
 His cousin Shock could move no faster. 
 
 Poor cousin Shock with pain replied : 
 " Alas ! I thought I should have died. 
 I cannot tell you my complaint, 
 But constantly I'm sick and faint, 
 And feel so dreadfully oppress' d, 
 I fear there's water in my chest ." 
 
 The cur had got a tender heart, 
 And in his sorrows took a part ; 
 Some ugly symptoms made him fear 
 He needed Doctor Chanticleer 
 "One who/' said he, " has studied hard, 
 And lectures gratis in the yard; 
 Chief wrangler once at barn-door college, 
 And fam'd for equal skill and knowledge ; 
 He's moderate too I paid my fees 
 In broken bread and rinds of cheese." 
 
 "What ! Chanticleer," cried Shock "not I; 
 There's nothing else I would not try ; 
 But really, cousin, I'm too weak 
 To hear that barb'rous fellow speak : 
 Such nerves as mine, that scarce can bear 
 The whistle of a key-hole air, 
 
MOTHER'S FABLES. 29 
 
 Would suffer so, that he could never 
 Cure me, if he were twice as clever. 
 Indeed Fve ground for what I say 
 'Tis he that scares my sleep away, 
 Till, every time I hear him crowing, 
 I feel as if my life were going." 
 " Why, I was once as bad as you," 
 Replied the cur, " and weaker too : 
 By day or night I could not rest, 
 With just that fulness in my chest : 
 And now you'd not have seen me here 
 Except for Doctor Chanticleer. 
 He seem'd to understand my case 
 The moment that he saw my face, 
 And said I was advancing far 
 In what they term a plethora. 
 ' Good living and the kitchen air 
 Are more/ said he, ' than you can bear. 
 To-morrow, when you hear me crow, 
 About the time of morning glow, 
 You must not mind a little pain, 
 But rise, and hie you to the lane ; 
 Then up the hill, and underneath 
 The shrubbery walk, to Rushmere-heath, 
 And where nine elms are in a ring 
 You'll find at last a lucid spring 
 A water this of wondrous power, 
 Drink fasting at an early hour.' 
 
 " 5 Twas but a simple remedy, 
 And so I thought it wise to try ; 
 
30 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 And, after once or twice attending, 
 I felt convinced that I was mending. 
 No longer dainty, I could eat 
 A crust of bread as well as meat ; 
 And now my looks are quite enough 
 To recommend this doctor's stuff." 
 
 " Alas ! " cried Shock, " my case is hard : 
 You see I scarce can reach the yard ; 
 And yet I think 't would do me good 
 To taste the spring at Nine-elm wood." 
 
 " Well," cried his kind, obliging frieud, 
 " To-morrow morning I'll attend, 
 And do as much as in me lies, 
 At early dawn, to make you rise." 
 
 He kept his word, and Shock and he 
 Went every morn in company, 
 'Tis true the air was keen 'tis true 
 That underfoot 'twas wet with dew ; 
 That when his thirst he came to slake, 
 It was so cold it made him shake ; * 
 And if his cousin had not laugh'd, 
 He might, perhaps, have left his draught. 
 But finding soon that he was better, 
 He thought himself the Doctor's debtor; 
 And, like a dog of sense and feeling, 
 Resolv'd to own his skill in healing 
 To fee him handsomely, and dwell 
 Up'On the wonders of his well. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 31 
 
 The Doctor shook his head, and smiled, 
 
 To see his patient so beguiled. 
 
 " My friend," he cried, " I'm glad to hear 
 
 You've had the sense to persevere ; 
 
 But that is no uncommon spring. 
 
 You wonder, but 'tis no such thing : 
 
 The charm that in the water lies 
 
 Is, that it gives you exercise. 
 
 You owe the cure of your diseases 
 
 To early hours and morning breezes !" 
 
 CHARITY WITHOUT CHARITY. 
 
 " Mamma, I've spent my money now, 
 And need not fear to tell you how. 
 I am not like some girls and boys 
 Who waste it all in cakes and toys : 
 No, no ; 'tis different with me 
 I've laid it out in charity. 
 
 As soon as aunt has heard about it, 
 She will not leave me long without it ; 
 I'm very sure she'll give me more 
 Than ever she has done before." 
 
 " Sophy, is that the reason, pray, 
 That makes you give your pence away ? 
 If so, the action you have done 
 Is far from a praiseworthy one. 
 The Bible bids us give, and then 
 Not hope for anything again. 
 
32 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 'Tis good the poor to clothe and feed, 
 But such a motive spoils the deed ; 
 And God, who understands your thought. 
 Sets all your goodness down for nought. 
 I think to you may be applied 
 The fable of the Honey-Guide." 
 
 THE HONEY-GUIDE.* 
 
 Come, while a boasting bird 
 
 Spreads his own praise. 
 Like it was never heard 
 
 Mark what he says: 
 
 "When you, in forest wide, 
 
 Seek the sweet food, 
 I am your .Honey-guide 
 Through the thick wood. 
 
 "Hunters that follow me 
 
 List for my cry; 
 After the Honey-bee 
 Always I fly. 
 
 "What I might eat alone, 
 
 Then I resign! 
 Pray, who has ever shown 
 Goodness like mine?" 
 
 * The Indicator, or Honey-guide, is a native of Africa. It has 
 received its name from the Dutch settlers, on account of its dis- 
 covering wild honey, which is its favourite food. The morning 
 and evening are its times of feeding, when it is heard calling, in 
 a shrill tone, cJieer, cheer, which the hunters carefully attend to 
 as a summons, and usually reward it with a small share of the 
 spoil. 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 33 
 
 "Stop stop," a Parrot cries; 
 "Listen to me: 
 Where the real motive lies 
 Eirst let us see. 
 
 "If you for man endure 
 
 Labour and toil, 
 You have forgotten, sure, 
 Who shares the spoil." 
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. . 
 
 What ! have you not a word to say 
 About your visit yesterday ? 
 Well, by your silence, I conclude 
 You thought the little party rude ; 
 And did not wish to say a word, 
 About the quarrelling you heard. 
 
 'Tis strange that children, when they meet, 
 Are so delighted with the treat, 
 And yet, can take such little care 
 In playing, to be kind and fair. 
 The proud command the rest about ; 
 The fretful tease ; the sulky pout ; 
 The greedy scramble for the cake, 
 More than their share that they may take ; 
 The passionate are quickly fired, 
 And then they quarrel till they're tired ! 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 The squabble that last night fell out, 
 Reminds me of Grimalkin's rout ; 
 "Which, as you both behaved so well, 
 I'll now, for your amusement, tell. 
 
 CATS AND DOGS. 
 
 On a moon-light night, Grimalkin's rout 
 
 Display'd a very fine set out ; 
 
 For puss had thought it good, 
 
 Around the neighbourhood, 
 
 Her cards to send about ; 
 And cat and dog of ton, that liv'd around, 
 Had each a card, and courteous welcome found. 
 
 Happy, happy how they fare ! 
 
 None but the ton ! 
 
 None but the ton ! 
 None but the ton, that night, were there ! 
 
 Grimalkin foremost shone, 
 "With whiskers long and thin ; 
 And softly purr'd at every one, 
 As cat and dog were usher' d in. 
 And now, together, in a social crowd, 
 Some whisper, some talk loud, 
 Of this cat's ermine fur ; 
 The beauty of that cur, 
 Who holds his tail so proud : 
 Here puppies, mixed with kittens, well agree, 
 Those bark Bom mots, these mew the repartee. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 35 
 
 Sometimes they eye'd 
 Their friends aside ; 
 
 Sir Sandy's waistcoat Mrs. Tabby's spot : 
 Miss Sleek appears, 
 What taper ears ! 
 
 I wonder where that dainty skin she got, 
 See now they play, 
 And frisk away ; 
 In a race, 
 How they chase, 
 In the dark, 
 Mevv and bark ; 
 
 And now, agree to sing a roundelay. 
 Soft in feline, canine measure, 
 Soon their hearts were sooth'd to pleasure ; 
 Peace 'tween cat and dog they sung ; 
 
 Ever broken, now renew' d ; 
 The chorus through the great hall rung ; 
 
 And loud by every cat was mew'd. 
 Tour Turnspits bark, the supper to announce. 
 And scrambling in they altogether bounce. 
 All is nice, 
 Birds and mice ; 
 Each as he took, 
 Extoll'd the cook. 
 Madam will you 
 
 Just taste the larks ? 
 The answer mew, 
 
 He gently barks : 
 
 Wit flies around, and compliments are paid; 
 And peace and harmony the whole pervade. 
 
 c 2 
 
36 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 The feasting part was nearly done, 
 When all seemed less and less in fun ; 
 
 Threat'ning scowls, 
 
 Mutter 5 d growls, 
 The little remnant brews. 
 
 talons are stirr'd ; 
 
 Hisses are heard ; 
 And louder, louder mews. 
 
 The grumbling noise begins to swell ; 
 Soon the quarrel breaks outright ; 
 Now they bite, 
 Scratch and fight ; 
 Cats they squalTd ; 
 Dogs were maul'd ; 
 
 And discord rose, which none can telL 
 With tooth and claw, 
 With nail and paw, 
 They fierce assail ; 
 Kittens squeak ; 
 Puppies weak, 
 Scratch' d ears bewail. 
 More clam'rous yet the tumult grows ; 
 The warring trumpet shriller blows : 
 Barks and wailings ; 
 Cries of whelps, 
 Mews and yelps ; 
 Frightful, frightful squallings. 
 
 Alarmed, at length, the cook arose, 
 A kitchen broom she brandished round ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 37 
 
 And down the stairs 
 
 Her vengeance bears, 
 On every cat and dog she found : 
 Her broad red arm, with muscles strong, 
 Dealt heavy blows among the throng ; 
 In haste they fled ; 
 
 Not one remained ; 
 
 But silence reigned ; 
 And cook returned in peace to bed. 
 
 This famous rout, 
 
 Thus turning out, 
 Produced a proverb sad and true ; 
 For when 'tis found in private life, 
 That friend and friend, or man and wife, 
 Thus bark, and scold, and scratch, and mew, 
 
 J Tis said to be, 
 Like cat and dog, they can't agree. 
 
 CHAKLES WISHES TOR A LONG LIFE. 
 
 CHARLES had been leaning on the church-yard stile, 
 And looking at a new-made grave the while. 
 At length he spoke, though long he musing stood ; 
 " Mamma, I wish I'd been before the flood ; 
 How fine, to live five hundred years or more, 
 Not to be on old man even at fourscore ! " 
 
 "And why that wish, my love," his mother cried, 
 <e Eor even then, you know you must have died , 
 
38 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 And who can tell, but such a long delay, 
 Had made you less inclin'd to go away ! 
 No, rather think, that if your death is near, 
 'Tis wise to be prepar'd at once, my dear ; 
 And then whene'er it come, you need to dread 
 That church-yard grave as little as your bed. 
 I think you like to hear a pretty fable, 
 About an oak ; I'll tell you, if I'm. able." 
 
 THE TOTING OAK. 
 
 A silly young oak, as you'll presently hear, 
 One day, took upon him to say, with a sneer, 
 An acorn was I from a Druid's old tree, 
 How many long ages may I hope to see ! 
 
 On you I shall mark the destruction of time, 
 Decaying with age, while I'm yet in my prime ; 
 My limbs I shall spread, more majestic shall grow, 
 Whilst you and your children are all lying low. 
 
 And what, cries an Ash, if you throw your broad shade, 
 "Where prone on the earth in decay I am laid ? 
 You are mortal as we, and must wither and die, 
 Though not quite so soon, yet as surely, as I. 
 
 The green dress of summer no more shall you wear ; 
 Your root shall be knotted; your boughs thin and 
 
 bare ; 
 
 Nor tli en little birds in your shadow shall play, 
 To carrol sweet songs in the fine summer day. 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 39 
 
 " But only the bat in your gloom shall delight ; 
 Or the owl, sailing home to your shelter at night : 
 Your trunk rough and hollow, your branches unsound, 
 If you stand, it shall be but to cumber the ground." 
 
 SOPHIA COMPLAINS OF THE FROGS. 
 
 Last evening, by the river's side we stray' d, 
 Where swarming frogs their croaking chorus made ; 
 And Sophy cried, " This noise I can't endure, 
 Mamma, I wish there were no frogs, I'm sure ; 
 Such miserable things had better die, 
 Than always make this melancholy cry." 
 
 " No, Sophy, no, you must not think them sad ; 
 They make that croaking noise because they're glad. 
 See that old frog, with little ones around, 
 You think her croaking has a dismal sound, 
 But there I'm sure my little girl is wrong : 
 I'll tell you now the meaning of her song." 
 
 THE FROG'S SONG. 
 
 None, none are so happy as we are, my daughters : 
 How pleasant to sit by these cold flowing waters, 
 Or all day among the green rushes to hide, 
 Or under some mossy old stone to abide ! 
 
 When the sun is gone down, and the stars are come 
 
 out, 
 Then, pleasant it is to be hopping about ; 
 
40 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 We sing merry songs, and we like our own tune, 
 And dance as we sing in the light of the moon ! 
 None, none, are so happy as we are, my daughters, 
 For ours are the rushes, and ours the blue waters ! 
 
 THE MISTAKE. 
 
 " Mamma, there's Rachel making hay, 
 Although 'tis such a sultry day ! 
 Eor my part, I can scarcely stir, 
 And how much worse it is for her, 
 All day beneath the burning sun ; 
 It really ought not to be done." 
 
 " 'Tis proper, Sophy, to be sure, 
 
 To pity and relieve the poor ; 
 
 But do not waste your pity here, 
 
 Work is not hard to her, my dear ; 
 
 It makes her healthy, strong, and gay, 
 
 And is as pleasant as your play. 
 
 We've each our task ; and they may boast 
 
 The happiest life, who do the most. 
 
 None need our pity half so much 
 
 As idlers, always pity such." 
 
 THE LILY Or THE VALLEY. 
 
 Wrapt up in her elegant stole, 
 
 A Lily, a delicate lady, 
 Sat under a green parasol, 
 
 Enjoying the covert so shady. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 41 
 
 One morning she said to the Bee, 
 " Friend, really I cannot but wonder 
 
 Your labour incessant to see, 
 Without any shade to be under. 
 
 " You know 'tis genteeler by far, 
 
 At home to be softly reposing, 
 'Till rises the evening star, 
 
 And to spend the broad daylight in dosing. 
 
 " From morning till evening employed, 
 You have been hardly treated by nature 1 
 
 By you, not an hour is enjoyed ! 
 0, what an unfortunate creature ! " 
 
 Said the Bee, " You have nothing to do, 
 
 But let me assure you, Miss Lily, 
 To think none are happy but you, 
 
 Is really exceedingly silly. 
 
 " Though I do not repose in the shade, 
 
 I feel a more exquisite pleasure 
 In viewing the cells I have made, 
 
 And storing them well with my treasure. 
 
 " I'm happier far, on the whole, 
 For all you may sneer at my labour, 
 
 Than you, with your green parasol, 
 
 And all your perfume, pretty neighbour ! " 
 
42 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 SOPHIA IS DISOBEDIENT. 
 
 ( Mamma, I wish so much to play 
 "With Fanny Singleton to-day : 
 She'll think it very cross, I know, 
 If really I must never go ; 
 And as for what was told to you, 
 I'm almost sure it is not true. 
 She pressed me so to call to-day, 
 That I could scarcely keep away ; 
 So I half promis'd that I would 
 Go in the evening, if I could. 
 I'm certain that you need not mind, 
 She's so agreeable, and so kind." 
 
 " Sophy, you have a naughty way 
 Of arguing, when you should obey ; 
 My motive now, you may not see, 
 But dutiful you ought to be ; 
 And should not think, a child like you 
 Can judge of what your parents do. 
 I have important reasons why 
 Your play with Fanny I deny ; 
 I told you so, and yet you say 
 You've promised her to call to-day ! 
 I'm really grieved, my love, to find 
 That what / think you do not mind." 
 
 "Indeed, mamma, I'm quite ashamed, 
 And know 'tis right that I am blamed ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 43 
 
 I did not think about it then, 
 But will not do the like again : 
 Forgive me now, and you shall see 
 How meek and dutiful I'll be." 
 Thus Sophy to her mother cried, 
 And in a fable she replied. 
 
 THE TJNDUTIFUL KID. 
 
 Mrs. Goat, having visits one morning to pay, 
 Left word with her daughter, at going away, 
 To keep in the house, and the hall-door to lock, 
 And not to regard it, whoever might knock. 
 
 Eor the wolf, in those parts, was accustomed to prowl, 
 And had kept her awake all the night with his howl ; 
 But at this, little Miss turned away with a pout, 
 And said, " To be sure, I shall keep the wolf out ! " 
 
 The dame went her way, but returning again, 
 Entreated her daughter to put up the chain. 
 " Dear me, what a trouble," cried little Miss Kid, 
 <c However, 'tis safest to do as one's bid." 
 
 A few minutes after, came rat-a-tat -tat, 
 So she could not be quiet, but cried, " Who is that ? 
 Eor mamma is gone out, and she bade me take care, 
 And to keep the door shut, lest the wolf should be 
 there." 
 
44 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 " Lack-a-day ! I'm no wolf," cried the stranger, "Miss 
 
 Kidd; 
 
 But as I would wish you to do as you're bid, 
 Pray do not, by any means, open it far, 
 But, while I am speaking, just set it a-jar." 
 
 So silly Miss Kid laid her hand on the chain, 
 Then felt half afraid, and considered again ; 
 For, said she, 'tis a truth that I cannot deny, 
 My mother is older and wiser than I. 
 
 At length she replied : " If you are coming this way, 
 I'll thank you to call, sir, on some other day ; 
 Eor, to tell you the truth, it is silly enough, 
 But I'm frightened a little, your voice is so gruff." 
 
 How vex'd was the wolf, (for if was he indeed,) 
 To think that at present he could not succeed ; 
 But he bade her good morning, and hied to the wood, 
 To think of some plan to get in, if he could. 
 
 At length, picking up some soft wool that he saw, 
 He bound it, as well as he could, on his pa\v ; 
 Then back to the house he returned, as before, 
 But only made one little tap at the door. 
 
 "Who's there?" said Miss Kidd; "tell me who you 
 
 may be." 
 " Only look at my paw," said the wolf, " and you'll 
 
 see ; 
 
 But, however, I'll tell you at once who I am." 
 So he spoke very softly t( I'm little Miss Lamb ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 45 
 
 "I met Mrs. Goat, and she told me to say, 
 As you're left quite alone, I might come for the day ; 
 Besides, between friends, I've a secret or two, 
 Which I am quite anxious to whisper to you." 
 
 Now this was the thing of all others, he guess' d, 
 To prevail with Miss Kid ; for it must be confessed, 
 That few other things could have tempted her so ; 
 (Like some silly children whom you and I know.) 
 
 So she drew up the latch, that her friend might come in, 
 But how great her dismay when she saw his rough 
 
 chin ! 
 
 And the sharp row of teeth in his terrible jaw ! 
 And the talons that peep'd through the wool on his 
 
 claw ! 
 
 She flung to the door, and shriek'd murder amain ! 
 And well was it now, that she put up the chain ; 
 For though he could reach her, to give her a scratch, 
 It kept him away till she fasten'd the latch. 
 
 Then, growling along to the forest he went, 
 And left her, at leisure, her fault to repent ; 
 And soon as her mother came back, she reveal'd 
 The whole of her folly, and nothing conceal'd. 
 
 Her mother was pleased that she did not deny, 
 And add a worse fault that of telling a lie. 
 And now she's so careful to do as she's bid, 
 That no child is better than little Miss Kidd. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 FALSE COURAGE, AND TRUE COURAGE. 
 
 'Tis like a coward or a fool, 
 Eor boys to bear affronts at school ! 
 A boy of spirit / admire, 
 Who has some bravery and fire ; 
 I'd rather make a little riot, 
 Than be so very tame and quiet ! 
 
 Charles, do not think that conrage lies 
 In noise, and heat, and enterprise ; 
 Nor in revenge, or tit for tat : 
 Courage is far enough from that ! 
 True spirit would protect the weak ; 
 But for itself is mild and meek ; 
 Is very seldom bold and daring, 
 And never rough, or over-bearing ; 
 But often finds it most befitting, 
 To show its courage by submitting. 
 
 THE LAMB AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 A Lamb in a meadow was frisking about, 
 
 When close to the hedge-row a serpent crept out; 
 
 She admir'd his slender and tapering tail, 
 
 Ills glistening eye, and his smooth coat of mail. 
 
 These serpents, she thought, they are beautiful things, 
 What a pity it is that they should have such stings ! 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 47 
 
 Yet, wishing to see him, she nearer advanced, 
 And he was good-natured that day, as it chanc'd. 
 
 " My daughter," he cried, " come nearer, I pray, 
 Tor something I have of importance to say, 
 About our detestable enemy, man, 
 Who rules like a tyrant, wherever he can. 
 
 f ' How could he be fed, or be cloth' d, but for you ? 
 Who pamper his pride, and his luxury too ; 
 And yet what reward does he make you, I pray ? 
 You are robbed of your wool, or are fatted to slay. 
 
 " At night, it is really a shame to behold, 
 You are smother'd almost in a comfortless fold; 
 I often glide by you, and wish you could be 
 Courageous enough to defy him, like me. 
 
 " I hate, I detest him, and fill him with fright ; 
 The proudest man trembles when I am in sight. 
 Then join us, my daughter, you easily can, 
 And wage open war with your enemy, man." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Serpent, she gently replies, 
 I know, very well, you are thought to be wise ; 
 But yet, I must think, 'twould be foolish and vain, 
 Eor me the protection of man to disdain. 
 
 "By night and by day I am glad of his care; 
 He watches the fold, that the wolf be not there ; 
 And though it may seem like a prison to you, 
 Without it I cannot tell what we should do. 
 
48 THE MOTHER'S FABLES, 
 
 " While you, sir, I fancy, are fasting for weeks, 
 My food in these sweet pleasant meadows he seeks ; 
 And, thanks to his care, I can safely repose, 
 Whilst you are unable your eye-lids to close*. 
 
 (t ! sir, it would never be fit for a lamb, 
 To cfuarrel and fight ! I am best as I am ; 
 And I think they are wisest, and happiest too, 
 Who live quiet lives, and submit as I do." 
 
 THE VAIN WISH. 
 
 I wish it would be always spring, 
 That I might hear the black-bird sing. 
 I love to see the flowers blow, 
 And hear the cooling waters flow. 
 But now the spring will soon be fled, 
 And dreary winter comes instead ; 
 Then let me listen while I may, 
 To the Cuckoo's simple lay. 
 
 TO THE CUCKOO. 
 
 Cuckoo, Cuckoo, timid bird, 
 Seldom seen, but ever heard ; 
 
 * All kinds of serpents are said to sleep with their eyes 
 open; and they often watch for weeks together for a single 
 meal. 
 
THE MOTHEE'S TABLES. 49 
 
 Cuckoo, Cuckoo, tell me why 
 Foolish thing, you are so shy ? 
 
 Little birds, within our view, 
 Are not known so well as you ; 
 For your voice's cheerful sound, 
 Fills the woodlands all around. 
 
 Still to me the song is dear, 
 For it sings of summer near ; 
 Sweet the notes that seem to bring 
 All the pretty flowers of spring. 
 
 You the violets usher in, 
 Primrose, and sweet jessamine ; 
 With the cuckoo-flower too 
 Bird of spring ! 'tis nam'd from you. 
 
 There are lords and ladies gay, 
 Almond, and the scented May ; 
 Hoses red and white combine 
 With the sprightly eglantine. 
 
 Lilac too, and daffodil, 
 And the pretty drooping bell ; 
 Bed-straw, with its sweet perfume- 
 All at once begin to bloom. 
 
 Cuckoo ! would that I, like you, 
 The flowery season could pursue ; 
 Borne away on rapid wing, 
 Finding thus perpetual spring. 
 
50 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Still the flowery train you meet, 
 And in leafy woods retreat : 
 Happy bird ! where'er you go 
 Mowers spring and waters flow ! 
 
 Yet, methinks, he seems to sing, 
 " Envy not my roving wing ; 
 Though I .stray as Cuckoos do, 
 Wintry days are good for you." 
 
 ALWAYS SPEAK TRUTH. 
 
 How beautiful is truth ! and truth is given 
 
 To guide all hearts, because it comes from heaven ; 
 
 The simple lesson of thy earliest youth, 
 
 Was to love God, and know that God is truth ! 
 
 And He requires it in our inmost part, 
 
 Not on our lips alone, but in the heart. 
 
 ! let the love of truth pervade your soul, 
 
 And every word and action still control ; 
 
 Though wit the liar's language may adorn, 
 
 Yet from the book of life his name is torn. 
 
 THE TRAVELLED PARROTS. 
 
 Two Parrots, young and poor, 
 Once went to take a tour, 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 51 
 
 And then return' d, their travels to rehearse ; 
 
 Amid their native wood, 
 
 The feather'd audience stood, 
 Parrots, you know, are willing to converse. 
 
 So he who best could chatter, 
 
 First introduced the matter, 
 Without regard to falsehood, or to blunders ; 
 
 He made his story fit 
 
 His own conceit and wit, 
 Embellish' d, now and then, with travellers' wonders. 
 
 He said they saw a land 
 
 Where birds had the command : 
 They rul'd both man and beast, and had for ages ; 
 
 They fear'd no gun or cat, 
 
 Tor all was tit for tat, 
 And boys and girls were kept to sing in cages. 
 
 He said (and flapp'd his wing), 
 
 A parrot was the king, 
 Who had a palace made of golden wires : 
 
 Prime minister, the owl ; 
 
 While other noble fowl 
 Were high in office, judges, lords, and 'squires. 
 
 And now to turn the story 
 
 To his own praise and glory, 
 He said, he was esteem'd so brave and loyal 
 
 That he had offers fair 
 
 To stay and settle there, 
 And make a match with Poll a the Princess Royal. 
 
2 THE MOTHER, S FABLES. 
 
 At last the other bird 
 
 Requested to be heard ; 
 And in the modest tone of truth and feeling, 
 
 Belated to his neighbours 
 
 Their perils and their labours, 
 No stories adding, no distress concealing. 
 
 He said he had no notion, 
 
 A voyage across the ocean 
 Was so fatiguing, or so long would last ; 
 
 He thought they must have died, 
 
 But that a ship they spied, 
 And rested now and then upon the mast. 
 
 We staid, he said, awhile, 
 
 Upon a wooded isle, 
 Where worms and caterpillars were in season ; 
 
 But as we could not find 
 
 One bird of Parrot-kind, 
 We did not there continue, for that reason. 
 
 At last we reach* d a place, 
 
 Where throngs of Parrot-race 
 Soon flock' d around to cheer our melancholy : 
 
 But in that foreign land 
 
 They could not understand 
 A word we said ; not even pretty Pollf. 
 
 We travell' d far and wide, 
 And many a country tried 
 
THE MOTHER'S FAELES. 53 
 
 But now, my friends, return' d to you and home : 
 
 With pleasure 'tis confest, 
 
 I love my own the best, 
 And from my native woods no more I'll roam. 
 
 The whole attentive throng 
 
 Approv'd the artless song, 
 And thank'd the traveller for his pretty story ; 
 
 While that poor boasting bird, 
 
 With ridicule was heard ; 
 He found disgrace, in seeking his own glory. 
 
 CHARLES TAUGHT HUMANITY. 
 
 "Ned and I have fishing been; 
 See, mamma, this crooked pin ! 
 Here the little worm was stuck ; 
 We have had amazing luck ! 
 Here's such a famous load of fish, 
 Enough to make a handsome dish. 
 See how they leap about and frisk ! 
 It seems to make them very brisk : 
 1 like to see them on the shore : 
 I'll go and fish a little more." 
 
 " No, Charles, you must not go again, 
 To take delight in giving pain : 
 I'm sure, my dear, you have not thought, 
 How much they suffer for your sport. 
 
54 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Suppose I stick this crooked pin 
 A little way in Charles's chin ; 
 And then, perhaps, his heart will melt, 
 At what the worm and fish have felt ; 
 Tor though the Lord of all has given 
 To man each creature under heaven, 
 Freely to take them for our use ; 
 Yet this can offer no excuse, 
 Eor those who make an idle sport 
 Of what was meant for our support ; 
 And if in wantonness we kill, 
 We act against the Giver's will." 
 
 THE CRUEL CUB. 
 
 A Cub, who was lying just out of his den, 
 Mumbled and grumbled, and tasted his hen; 
 And when he had finish'd his cruel repast, 
 He made this harangue to his mother at last : 
 
 " Pray, why must we lead such a troublesome life, 
 
 For ever engaging in murder and strife ? 
 
 By day, I am skulking about in alarm, 
 
 And steal like a felon, at night, from the farm. 
 
 t We bear a sad character, mother, I've heard ; 
 There's nobody gives us (they say) a good word : 
 Why cannot I be like the innocent lamb, 
 And not such a cruel young cub as I am ?" 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 55 
 
 To this this the old mother discreetly replied : 
 " I fear, here is less of compassion than pride ; 
 What, cannot you see any diff'rence, I wonder, 
 'Twixt getting one's living, and villanous plunder ? 
 
 "We must not find fault with what nature has 
 
 made ; 
 
 The whole race of Foxes are butchers by trade ; 
 And all must allow, that no harm is befalling, 
 So long as we honestly follow our calling. 
 
 " But, child, when you are not in want of a meal, 
 'Tis then you should think what poor animals feel ; 
 And not swing a pretty duck over your back, 
 Tor nought but the pleasure of hearing it quack. 
 
 " It was with concern and displeasure I saw, 
 Last night, a poor rabbit you had in your paw ; 
 You kept it in misery more than you need, 
 And teas'd and tormented it sadly indeed. 
 
 " The creatures that nature has placed in our power, 
 We may with humanity kill and devour; 
 But this we should do in the easiest way, 
 And not take delight in tormenting our prey. 
 
56 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 SOPHIA, A LITTLE PEDANT. 
 
 " Sophia, I've a fable here, 
 
 That suits some folks too well, I fear : 
 
 I saw with pain, the other day, 
 
 When with your little friends at play, 
 
 You seem'd to look, and speak, and jest, 
 
 As though you thought yourself the best ; 
 
 And wish'd in every thing, to be 
 
 Head of the little company. 
 
 You talk'd about your books and playing, 
 
 Thus your own vanity betraying ; 
 
 And show'd with all your proud pretence, 
 
 A want of modesty and sense. 
 
 I'd rather that my child should be 
 
 Possess'd of sweet humility, 
 
 Her own deficiencies discerning, 
 
 Than full of vanity and learning. 
 
 The very little that you know 
 
 Has made you self-conceited grow ; 
 
 For those who know and think the most, 
 
 Are always least inclin'd to boast." 
 
 THE CONCEITED YOUNG OWL. 
 
 Alone in the gloom of an ivy-bush tower, 
 Dame Owl and her daughter pass'd many an hour 
 In dulness and torpour, in winking and blinking, 
 Which Miss ostentatiously calTd profound thinking. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 57 
 
 The Owl was just taking her afternoon's doze, 
 When her daughter broke in on her pleasant repose ; 
 Says she, " Is aught living, of man, beast, or fowl, 
 That at all can compare with a thoughtful young Owl ? 
 
 " Our neighbours, engag'd in the vulgar pursuits, 
 Adapted to birds of mean feather, and brutes, 
 All shun our acquaintance, unable, of course, 
 To join in our grave, scientific discourse. 
 
 ' ' The Lark only soars up so high for her fun, 
 And never contemplates the path of the sun : 
 And as for the Nightingale, thoughjshe can squall, 
 She has no astronomical knowledge at all. 
 
 " She cannot distinguish the Crab from the Lion, 
 The tail of the Bear from the belt of Orion ; 
 And yet she stays out every evening, by choice ; 
 Poor thing ! she's excessively vain of her voice. 
 
 " The Plover, though fond of the heath and the hill, 
 Yet never must boast of botanical skill ; 
 There is not a weed on this ruin between us, 
 Of which he could tell you the species or genus. 
 
 " To account for the distance they keep (I have heard), 
 They say we're a dull and unsociable bird ; 
 But the truth of it is, that our wisdom discerning, 
 They all feel afraid of our talents and learning. 
 
58 THE MOTHEll's TABLES. 
 
 " There's something you know in our look so profound, 
 Our beaks are so pointed our eyes are so round 
 That air of nobility grandeur and power, 
 No wonder they're fright en' d at ivy-bush tower. 
 
 " But really, though none to our rank can pretend, 
 I should like, now and then, j ust to visit a friend ; 
 Though such early hours they usually keep, 
 That when we should see company, they are asleep." 
 
 " My dear," said the Owl (who was now wide awake) 
 " I fear you are under a little mistake; 
 Though shunn'd bpjbur neighbours, I often suspect, 
 'Tis more from contempt and dislike, than respect. 
 
 <f Our life is secluded, by all 'tis allow'd, 
 But some call us stupid, and all think us proud : 
 Eor when people keep so much out of the way, 
 'Tis often because they have nothing to say. 
 
 " "We think ourselves wise, but some folks doubt our 
 
 sense, 
 
 And think it conceit, and a solemn pretence ; 
 So all that we get by our grandeur and power, 
 Is living alone in this ruinous tower." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 59 
 
 THE ILL-NATURED SCHOOL-EELLOW. 
 
 " Our school, Mamma, would be delightful, 
 If Jonas Clerk were not so spiteful : 
 He's always telling stories, mother, 
 To make us quarrel with each other ; 
 And every day he seems intent 
 To get us blame and punishment. 
 "With nobody he will agree, 
 And all avoid his company." 
 
 " I'm very much concern'd to hear, 
 Such a bad character, my dear : 
 May you, from his example, learn 
 Such mean contrivances to spurn; 
 Such wicked children all forsake, 
 Like the envenom'd Rattlesnake." 
 
 THE RATTLESNAKE. 
 
 The Rattlesnake spreads gloom and fear, 
 
 And desolation wide ; 
 Eor none can ever venture near, 
 
 Where he is known to hide. 
 
60 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 His prey, where'er lie shows his head, 
 Prepares for death or battle ; 
 
 None are so bold as not to dread 
 The terror of his rattle. 
 
 Only the Vulture waves her wing* 
 Athwart his gloomy way ; 
 
 She heeds not his envenom' d sting, 
 But seeks her favourite prey. 
 
 A savage, melancholy mood, 
 His dreary state expresses ; 
 
 A wild and gloomy solitude, 
 Is all that he possesses. 
 
 Why is he shunn'd by all that lives, 
 And fear'd by every creature ? 
 
 "Tis for the cruel death he gives 
 The venom of his nature. 
 
 THE EVENING WALK. 
 
 As we to-day have all been good, 
 We go this evening to the wood ; 
 
 * The certain death which ensues from the bite of this ani- 
 mal, makes a solitude wherever it appears; but the vulture* 
 no way terrified by the rattle, hastens at this signal, to seize the 
 snake, as its most favourite food. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 61 
 
 And there, amid the shade, you know, 
 Those pretty bells and cowslips grow : 
 Beneath the shady chesnut tree 
 We'll make a fire and have our tea ; 
 And then Mamma, if she is able, 
 Will tell us all a pretty fable. 
 And now, I hope, she'll think of one 
 To make a little sport and fun 1 
 About a fox, I like the best, 
 And that I know will please the rest. 
 
 Well, then, to-night I'll try and find 
 A fable quite to Charles's mind ; 
 That's neither grave nor melancholy, 
 Nor aim'd at any little folly ; 
 And as you like a merry jest, 
 and I will do our best. 
 
 THE FOX AND THE HEN. 
 
 One night, a Fox the woods forsook, 
 About old Robin's farm to look : 
 Within the hen-house see him crawl, 
 Through a sly crevice in the wall. 
 With slow and cautious step he creeps, 
 And into every corner peeps ; 
 With greedy eye he looks about, 
 To find the ducks and chickens out : 
 
62 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Impatient for his nice repast, 
 And casting up his eyes at last, 
 With eager pleasure there he sees 
 A young hen roosting at her ease. 
 But now to gain this dainty prize, 
 He must some stratagem devise. 
 The perch so high the wall so steep, 
 He knows 'twould be in vain to leap ; 
 And so contriv'd a better way 
 To seize his unsuspecting prey. 
 In tones of high condolence then, 
 He soon addressed the sleepy hen : 
 
 " Dear, Mistress Hen," (he thus beset her,) 
 
 " I hear you're ill I hope you're better : 
 
 I fear'd the worst, and came in search ; 
 
 They even said, you kept your perch. 
 
 Do tell me ho\v you fare and feel : 
 
 I hope they give you barley-meal. 
 
 Much may be done by keeping quiet, 
 
 With change of air, and proper diet. 
 
 I have a little skill myself, 
 
 (You know I do not come for pelf) 
 
 But vex'd to hear you were so fond 
 
 Of those quack doctors in the pond, 
 
 I come to examine what your state is, 
 
 And offer my prescriptions gratis." 
 
 " I never quack" (exclaim 5 d the Hen) 
 (Says he) "try my prescriptions then ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. G3 
 
 There's none, you'll find, so quickly eases 
 
 Chickens and ducks of their diseases ; 
 
 At once I free them from their pain, 
 
 So that they never more complain. 
 
 But, oh ; from such high seats preserve us, 
 
 Enough to make a lion nervous : 
 
 Come down, without delay, and then 
 
 I'll feel your pulse, my pretty Hen ; 
 
 I'm sure you've got a little fever, 
 
 Do pray come down/' said the deceiver. 
 
 The hen his cunning plainly saw, 
 And did not mean to trust his paw ; 
 For well she knew that Doctor Fox 
 Was no true friend to fowls or flocks. 
 Some doctors kill or cure, they say, 
 But Foxes kill or run away : 
 She, therefore, from her roost on high, 
 Thus thank'd him for his courtesy. 
 
 " Kind Sir, I own your friendly care, 
 
 In coming through the evening air, 
 
 To see a helpless invalid ; 
 
 I take it very kind indeed. 
 
 But, Sir, I fear 'twould not be right, 
 
 To leave my nest so late at night ; 
 
 Nor am I fit to hold a parley 
 
 Just now I took three grains of barley, 
 
 By the advice of Doctor Duck ; 
 
 I thought I could but try my luck. 
 
 I don't like quacks, I must confess, 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 But Doctor Duck has great success ; 
 He goes upon the modern plan 
 Quite a self-educated man. 
 The doctor charged me not to stir, 
 And therefore you'll excuse me, Sir ; 
 The flight would take away my breath, 
 I think it would be certain death." 
 
 The Fox retir'd bewail'd his luck, 
 And vow'd revenge on Doctor Duck. 
 
 SOPHIA'S ALAKM. 
 
 " OH ! dear Mamma, I have had such a shock, 
 I found a spid^/ crawling up my frock ! 
 I tremble siffl, I was in such a fright, 
 Spiders/you know, have poison in their bite." 
 
 Sophy, what a silly tale to bring, 
 spider is a very harmless thing ; 
 There's no occasion for the least alarm, 
 The insect cannot do you any harm. 
 The other day you laughed at Jane, you know, 
 Because a toad was crawling on her toe : 
 Such false alarms, my dear, recall to me 
 A fable I will tell you after tea." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 65 
 
 THE FRIENDLY CONFERENCE. 
 
 A Beetle, an Ear-wig, a Spider, and Toad, 
 All chanc'd to be journeying on the same road, 
 And mounting a mole-hill, the prospect to view, 
 They rested awhile, as most travellers do. 
 
 They happened that morning to turn their discourse 
 To man, and the evils of which he's the source. 
 Alas ! (they exclaimed) our sad cause of complaint 
 Is out of the reach of all language to paint. 
 
 How many the species that creep and that crawl, 
 But among them, we are the worst treated of all I 
 There's even the wasp, though his venom is sure, 
 Has less persecution than we to endure. 
 
 " Why now, (said the Beetle,) pray tell me if I 
 Am not quite as well dress'd as the gay Butterfly ? 
 Although she is flatter' d and courted by those 
 Who hunt a poor Beetle wherever he goes. 
 
 Her dress, in the summer, is airy and light, 
 But, in winter, she is such a terrible fright ! 
 For my part, I like to be all of a piece : 
 I would not put on such a dowdy pelisse. 
 
G6 .THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 If they would but examine my drapery too, 
 ftlv coat would be found of a changeable blue; 
 And some have acknowledged, the tints I disclose, 
 Are like my green cousin's, who lives in the rose." 
 
 " Your case (says the Ear-wig) we all much deplore, 
 
 But surely my own is the worst of the four : 
 
 As I and my kindred are all in disgrace, 
 
 From a slander that long has .attach'd to our race. 
 
 Men say we creep into their ears, though the fact is, 
 We are most unjustly accus'd of the practice : 
 I'll tell you the story, as far as it goes, 
 Prom which this report of our species arose. 
 
 As one of our fathers (who dwelt in a fig) 
 Was making the tour of a gentleman's wig, 
 lie hyppen'd to come to a cavernous hole, 
 About eighty degrees and a half from the pole. 
 
 A spirit of enterprise led him to brave 
 The dangers attending the sight of the cave ; 
 And so he descended, new wonders to seek, 
 As others may do in the Derbyshire Peak. 
 
 Of what he discover'd, I vainly should strive 
 To give a description more dead than alive, 
 At last he got out, and you now may be sure, 
 "VVe -dwavs avoid it in making the tour." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. C7 
 
 ! dear, (said the Toad, when he came to an end) 
 What an ill-natured world do we live in, ray friend ! 
 They cannot on Ear-wigs more calumny load, 
 Then what has been said of the innocent Toad. 
 
 Yon know I am partial to living alone, 
 
 Spending most of my time in the shade of a stone : 
 
 And why Fm abused and molested for ever, 
 
 1 never could tell, though I often endeavour. 
 
 " I've not many personal charms, I allow ; 
 (My friends, Fm not fishing for compliments now) ; 
 But yet it does vex me to hear them maintain, 
 As they do, that I am so excessively plain." 
 
 " Alas ! " said the Spider, " my pleasant abode 
 Is no less molested than your own, Mister Toad ; 
 Yet allow me to hint for I think it my duty 
 You and I have no need to be vain of our beauty. 
 
 " Do, pray, let them laugh at our colour and shape 
 As long as they please, if they let us escape ; 
 And what if they talk of our venomous bite ? 
 My dear neighbour Toad, it is nothing but spite. 
 
 "'Tis strange, to be sure, we should still have to 
 
 stand 
 
 Such treatment as this in a civilized land ; 
 But being thus injur'd, we now may be able 
 To make our case public, by printing this fable. 
 
 E 2 
 
68 THE MOTHER'S FAELES. 
 
 ROSE'S MISTAKE. 
 
 " Mamma, the people think it odd, no doubt, 
 That in this frightful hat I walk about. ' 
 Last night, when we were out, I saw them stare : 
 You must afford a new one, I declare." 
 
 "My dear, it makes me laugh to hear you talk; 
 I'm sure no one observ'd us in our walk. 
 Pray do not fret about it any more : 
 I dare say no one saw the hat you wore. 
 'Tis silly vanity I cannot bear, 
 To think that people notice what we wear. 
 Poor little child ! so every foolish elf 
 Thinks nothing so important as itself ; 
 Why, you remind me, with your frightful hat, 
 Of ^Esop's fable of the Bull and Gnat." 
 
 THE GNAT AND THE BULL. 
 
 A Gnat^had been playing, as oft she had done, 
 And singing her song in a beam of the sun, 
 Till, being fatigued with her dance in the air, 
 She wish'd to be home in the hedge to repair. 
 
 Her nearest way there was, this evening, to pass 
 Across a wide meadow of newly-mown grass, 
 
Rosa's Mistake. 
 
 P. 63. 
 
 The Gnat and the Bull. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 60 
 
 Where, just a Bull was about to repose, 
 
 Miss Gnat, most presumptuously, lit oil his nose, 
 
 Says she : " Mr. Bull, you will not think it rude 
 That I venture, in this friendly way, to intrude ; 
 I'm greatly fatigued with the heat of the day, 
 And, therefore, have call'd on your nose by the way. 
 
 " It is a late hour, and it must be confess'd 
 That to pay such a visit I'm shockingly dress'd : 
 I know, Mr. Bull, I'm not fit to be seen 
 Among all the company here on the green. 
 
 " A butterfly beau, who was hearing me sing, 
 Has shaken his powder, and dusted my wing ; 
 And the beams, at this season, you know, are so full, 
 I hope you'll excuse it, my dear Mr. Bull." 
 
 The Bull most politely replied, as he sat : 
 " Indeed you are welcome, my charming Miss Gnat : 
 At any time, when you're inclioed for a doze, 
 I beg that you'll feel quite at home on my nose. 
 
 "For -as to the weight of your body, my dear, 
 Believe me, I should not have known you were here ; 
 And whether you're drest as a beau or a belle, 
 I could not, without a good microscope, tell. 
 
 " I beg you will rest here whenever you please, 
 Nor offer such needless excuses as these ; 
 'Tis no inconvenience, because you're so small, 
 I scarcely can feel you or see you at all. 
 
70 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 SOPHIA'S REQUEST. 
 
 " My dear mamma, I wish you'd hark, 
 I do so want to keep a lark ! 
 'Twould sing so sweetly all day long, 
 And wake me with its early song." 
 
 " Well, Sophy, when my song you've heard, 
 We'll talk again about the bird ; 
 And you to me shall then explain 
 Whether your thoughts the same remain." 
 
 THE LARK TO HIS MISTRESS. 
 
 Ah ! why such care, my little lady, 
 To make my nest so cool and shady ? 
 For, let you do whate'er you will, 
 It is a dismal prison still. 
 
 I chirp no thanks, though you're so good, 
 And furnish me with daily food, 
 And though with tender care you bring 
 The cooling waters from the spring. 
 
 Yet, might I change this dreary plight, 
 I'd carol on from morn to night ; 
 But here I cannot gaily sing, 
 A prison's such a dismal thing ! 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 71 
 
 Fm. not expos'd to stormy weather 
 1 need not have a ruffled feather ; 
 Yet would I quit this shelter'd nest, 
 And let the winds assail my breast. 
 
 For once, amid the leafy trees, 
 I lov'd the rustling of the breeze ; 
 And still my captive heart aspires 
 To break these gloomy prison wires. 
 
 Once, when the night its course had mn, 
 I sung to hail the rising sun ; 
 But now I view the sun with pain, 
 And strike my quiv'ring wings in vain. 
 
 Dear mistress, if you love me so, 
 Unbar the door, and let me go ! 
 And then a happy, grateful peal, 
 Shall tell you how a bird can feel. 
 
 THE FOOLISH DISPUTE. 
 
 What means this altercation that I hear ? 
 Rose and Sophia both disturb 3 d appear. 
 I fear, indeed, 'tis shame that makes you mute ; 
 Well, then, I heard the subject in dispute, 
 
72 THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 
 
 And am surprised, as well as grieved, to find 
 Such childish vanity possess your mind. 
 I hope the fable which I now shall read 
 Will make you very much ashamed, indeed : 
 The vanity of flies and worms must strike 
 As odious and ridiculous alike. 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY'S LAW-SUIT. 
 
 Pray tell me why the "Butterfly, 
 With the Dragon-fly's at war ; 
 
 The case, they say, will be heard to-day, 
 In a solemn court of law. 
 
 Their rancorous hate is of ancient date, 
 
 And grows worse every day ; 
 But now will the laws decide the cause, 
 
 In an equitable way. 
 
 The contest has brew'd a violent fued, 
 
 Throughout the insect race ; 
 And a Bee of wit to-day will sit, 
 
 And hear and settle the case. 
 
 Tearing the weather, they met together 
 
 Within a hollow tree ; 
 And there was a stone, to serve as a throne, 
 
 Tor my lord chief justice Bee. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 73 
 
 Now the court has met, and the judge is set, 
 
 The jurors all are nam'd ; 
 The attentive band in order stand, 
 
 And silence is proclaim'd. 
 
 Then Counsellor Leech commenc'd his speech, 
 
 And open'd the notable cause ; 
 He said, that his client, they all might rely on't, 
 
 Was worthy of their applause. 
 
 The plaintiff in court has always been thought 
 
 T' excel in feminine grace ; 
 And her only claim, is to bear her name, 
 
 As queen of the insect race. 
 
 Now a bold Dragon-fly has refus'd to comply, 
 
 And the title disputes with fury; 
 But I have not a fear how the case will appear, 
 
 To the gentlemen of the jury. 
 
 We have to implore the court to restore 
 
 Her true and rightful claim ; 
 As, from time out of mind, in old records you'll find, 
 
 Her ancestors bore the same. 
 
 Both she and her heirs, the title she bears, 
 
 Can always prove to be just; 
 As you, my lord Bee, by the statute may see, 
 
 In the Twentieth of George the First, 
 
74 THE MOTHEll's FABLES. 
 
 When he came to a close, Serjeant Hornet arose, 
 
 His eloquence all must admire ; 
 'Twas a livelier speech than from Counsellor Leech, 
 
 For his words were the words of fire. 
 
 In the Dragon-fly's cause he won the applause 
 
 Of all the learned court ; 
 With a skilful aim, the Butterfly's claim 
 
 He wittily turn'd to sport. 
 
 He mention'd her wing as a tawdry thing, 
 While his client's was delicate gauze ; 
 
 But 'twas useless so late to prolong the debate, 
 As he surely must win the cause. 
 
 His turn being come, with a solemn hum, 
 
 The learned judge arose ; 
 He said, this debate was insulting the state, 
 
 And ordered the case to close. 
 
 He said, that affairs more important than theirs, 
 
 Should occupy their thought ; 
 But that belles and beaus, and their furbelows, 
 
 Were quite beneath the court. 
 
 If the cause to be tried had been to decide, 
 
 Which Fly does most for the state, 
 The court and the laws had decided the cause, 
 
 And ended this debate. 
 
THE MOTHEK'S FABLES. 75 
 
 So in shame and disgrace they withdraw from the 
 place, 
 
 And thus their suit is lost ; 
 But not to proclaim their mutual shame, 
 
 Each party pays his cost. 
 
 ROSE IS VAIN. 
 
 Do I not often see with pain, 
 That you, my little Rose, are vain ; 
 By other's failings you may see 
 How disagreeable it must be. 
 What affectation may be seen 
 In that poor child, Eliza Green ! 
 Always contriving some invention, 
 To strike and to attract attention. 
 A simple child, who seems at ease, 
 And does her best to serve and please, 
 Will never fail that love to gain, 
 Which affectation seeks in vain. 
 Tor those are always most admir'd, 
 Who are most humble and retir'd : 
 The Swan had never known disgrace, 
 If she had kept her proper place. 
 
76 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 THE VAIN' SWAN. 
 
 A Swan swam in a silver lake, 
 And gracefully swam the Swan ; 
 
 Her plumage was as the snowy flake, 
 As soft she glided on. 
 
 Slowly she sail'd in stately pride, 
 Her neck did proudly wave ; 
 
 And as she went, the lucid tide 
 Her graceful image gave. 
 
 Thus, as she passes on in state, 
 
 And all admiring stand, 
 She wishes it had' been her fate 
 
 To be beheld on land. 
 
 Soon to the bank she sails away, 
 And quickly gains the shore ; 
 
 There all her graces to display; 
 But praise she hears no more. 
 
 Her awkward waddle, and her stoop, 
 
 She hears them all deride ; 
 Her wings of snow now humbly droop, 
 
 Nor waves her neck with pride. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 77 
 
 Alas ! and did I wish to roam, 
 
 Thus to be scorn'd (she said), 
 And leave my pleasant wat'ry home, 
 
 And shady osier bed. 
 
 I'll never more its shade forsake, 
 
 To be derided here ; 
 But, gliding on the silver lake, 
 
 Keep in my proper sphere. 
 
 HOSE CORRECTED. 
 
 Hose, did I hear that silly speech from you, 
 That ladies have not anything to do ? 
 J Tis true you're not obliged to earn your bread, 
 As by kind parents you are cloth' d and fed ; 
 But indolence no station can excuse, 
 As time is given us to employ and use, 
 And those who have most leisure ought to try 
 What they can do their neighbours to supply. 
 They who are rich have also time to spare ; 
 Therefore the poor are their peculiar care. 
 But look around, my dear, and you will see 
 Incessant calls on time and industry : 
 
78 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Instruct the ignorant, and clothe the poor, 
 And feed the hungry from your ample store. 
 Thus let your days in usefulness be past, 
 That you may give a good account at last. 
 
 THE DISCONTENTED ANT. 
 
 One fine summer's day a young Ant was complaining 
 
 And even the order of nature arraigning : 
 
 " "What a poor creeping creature," she murrnure 
 
 "ami! 
 Why had I not wings, like my neighbour the Fly ? 
 
 " To buzz all the day in the sun's golden beam, 
 Or gaily dance over a murmuring stream, 
 Is better than being confin'd to the land, 
 And crawling all day over pebbles and sand. 
 
 <f While thus I'm pursuing my wearisome track, 
 With the dust in my eyes, and a load on my back, 
 That pert little fellow regards me with scorn 
 As much as to say, he's a gentleman born. 
 
 " Nor am I the richer for all I can get, 
 
 But see it stor'd up by a covetous set, 
 
 Who take my hard earnings, and send me again, 
 
 Without even waiting to hear me complain." 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 79 
 
 So thus she went grumbling along every day, 
 While the bright summer season was passing away ; 
 "Till winter approaching, she gladly went down, 
 Tor shelter and food, to the garrison town. 
 
 Now daily she fed on the common repast, 
 Which the little republic supplied to the last ; 
 But when the warm breezes had melted the snow, 
 She ventured once more from her covert to go. 
 
 But oh ! what a scene was immediately spread ! 
 She trampled on heaps of the dying and dead ; 
 And these were the flies she had envied before, 
 Now perish' d, for want of a provident store. 
 
 They foolishly squander'd the best of their hours 
 In dancing in sunbeams, and resting on flowers. 
 The Ant felt the moral this story conveys, 
 And resolved to work hard all the rest of her days. 
 
 PRIDE KEPROYED. 
 
 This fable, Philip Sandy, is for you, 
 So I've contrived to place it in your view. 
 Indeed, my boy, I do not love to chide, 
 But it is painful to observe such pride : 
 
80 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 E'en to the young companions of your play, 
 You still will boast you're nobler born than they, 
 Think when you're lying in the churchyard earth 
 What will avail your vaunted noble birth. 
 You know, in Holy Scriptures, we are taught 
 To look upon ourselves with lowly thought ; 
 In the poor man we should behold a brother, 
 And better than ourselves esteem another. 
 
 THE SUNFLOWER AND MARIGOLDS. 
 
 A proud Sunflower tall, 
 That high o'ertopp'd them all, 
 
 Grew on a bed of humble Marigolds : 
 His heart so fill'd with pride, 
 That still he frould deride 
 
 All that he lower than himself beholds. 
 
 To see the vile pot-herbs 
 
 His dignity disturbs : 
 " I am descended from the sun," cried he ; 
 
 " Do I not bear his name, 
 
 And therefore share his fame ? 
 Surely you might a proper distance see. 
 
 "Alas! 'tis true that I 
 
 Must bear you company : 
 The silly gard'ner plac'd us much too near. 
 
 Why boast you're useful found ? 
 
 I hate the vulgar sound. 
 Does that, pray, make gentility appear ?' 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 81 
 
 A Marigold replies : 
 
 "Why do you us despise? 
 And wherefore make such boast, proud flow'r, 
 we pray? 
 
 For are we not, like you, 
 
 Rob'd in a golden hue, 
 And imitate the sun, with pointed ray ? 
 
 " "We own the name you bear 
 
 Does very grand appear ; 
 But when at length your splendid course is run, 
 
 With weeds you'll rot away, 
 
 And on some dung-heap lay, 
 While all forget you're named from the bright 
 sun." 
 
 CHARLES IS INATTENTIVE. 
 
 " I would your heart, my Charles, with goodness fill, 
 And in your mind each virtuous thought instil. 
 Why, then, neglectful of my tender care, 
 Nor longer strive your mother's love to share ? 
 She who would keep your infant years secure, 
 And guard from ills which heedless boys endure ; 
 Yet from my fond advice you turn away, 
 And fill your giddy thoughts with foolish play. 
 But come that serious look much good portends ; 
 I see my boy and I once more are friends. 
 
82 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Well, I've a fable, made I think for you, 
 For the young Fawn is wild and careless too." 
 
 " ! tell it me, mamma, and you shall see 
 I will so still and so attentive be." 
 
 THE CARELESS FAWN. 
 
 A Hind, that cropp'd the flow'ry lawn, 
 Had by her side a darling Fawn. 
 In him was centered all her care, 
 For well she wished her child to rear ; 
 To make him swifter than the wind 
 To leave or horse or dog behind. 
 She daily tells of num'rous foes, 
 That chase the stag where'er he goes ; 
 Or keepers fell ; or, worse than they, 
 The blood-hounds fierce, and beasts of prey- 
 Of cruel man, that hunts him long, 
 And makes his death a jovial song. 
 Cautions like these she would instil, 
 To guard her child from every ill ; 
 And chief forbade him not to stray 
 Beyond the park, where danger lay. 
 Yet for her son oft grieved was she 
 A wild and careless Fawn was he : 
 Yet seemed he not to vice inclined, 
 His greatest fault, a vagrant mind. 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 83 
 
 And many a time, with tears, she strove 
 
 His thoughts to fix his heart to move. 
 
 He hearkened not to what she said, 
 
 But played with flies around his head ; 
 
 Or chased the leaf along the ground, 
 
 Or for his tail skipped round and round. 
 
 Now such a Eawn, no wonder he 
 
 Should fall into bad company. 
 
 And so it was a Eox, vile knave ! 
 
 A wicked bribe a poacher gave ; 
 
 That he among the deer would get, 
 
 And silly Eawns tempt to his net. 
 
 This fawn, the Eox's cunning glance 
 
 Had marked, and meets, as if by chance ; 
 
 And well he played the tempter's part, 
 
 His tricks soon gained the wild thing's heart. 
 
 He tells of distant fields so fair, 
 
 Wonders his friend has not been there. 
 
 How could a lively Eawn endure 
 
 To be confined in park secure ? 
 
 Where, of his age, could one be found, 
 
 That had not leaped its highest bound ? 
 
 Ah ! in green meads we'll play awhile, 
 
 No snares can there our feet beguile. 
 
 Your mother has too much alarm, 
 
 For fear that you should come to harm ; 
 
 But sure I know, as well as she, 
 
 Where dog or snare is like to be. 
 
 In darkest nights, I dare to roam, 
 
 And venture many a mile from home ; 
 
 And nothing e'er obstructs my way, 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Then, what have you to fear, I pray ?" 
 Thus, his discourse and wily tongue 
 Tempt the young fawn to what is wrong ; 
 So the poor thing consents to go, 
 Just down the pleasant vale below. 
 Away, as if before the hounds, 
 They fleetly run to gain the bounds ; 
 "Which scarce the Pox, with all his power, 
 Can clear the Fawn he bounded o'er. 
 Adown the hill he skips along, 
 Or frisks the yellow broom among : 
 His nimble feet scarce bend the fern, 
 He feels his heart with pleasure burn; 
 His mother's words regards he not, 
 Her precepts wise are all forgot. 
 Thus, through gay paths was he betrayed, 
 To where the fatal snare was laid. 
 Ah ! now, he's caught and loud his cries 
 Bespeak his bitter agonies. 
 
 Why did I leave my mother's side, 
 To stray with this perfidious guide ? 
 Had I been wise, I might have seen 
 Your crafty and deceitful inien : 
 May you no other Fawn, like me, 
 Deceive with cunning treachery." 
 
 " What !" said the Eox, " it is your shame 
 To fall in snares am I to blame P 
 So, friend, good day ; I greatly fear 
 The wicked poacher may be near." 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 85 
 
 But, as he turned, he felt a blow, 
 Given by a hoof, which laid him low. 
 It was the mother gave the blow 
 The mother's foot that laid him low. 
 Long had she sought her wandering child, 
 Through thorny brakes and dingles wild ; 
 As she in grief was passing by, 
 She heard her son in sorrow cry. 
 With all the speed e'er mother made, 
 She flew, her dying Fawn to aid ; 
 And, first, the Fox her vengeance felt, 
 For quick her hoof his death-blow dealt. 
 She soon contrived her child to free : 
 Again he feels his liberty. 
 He promised her no more to roam, 
 But to obey, and stay at home. 
 
 COUSIN HENRY'S VISIT. 
 
 My dearest boys, it gives me great delight 
 To hear your cousin Henry comes to-night : 
 Only from quarrels he is seldom free, 
 And with his playmates never can agree ; 
 For when at school, there scarcely conies a day, 
 But this sad restless boy excites some fray. 
 Though, if in quarrels forced to take a part, 
 He has not shown the most courageous heart. 
 
. THE MOTHER'S 
 
 Yet future good might Henry still attend, 
 If lie should see his faults, and strive to mend : 
 Therefore, to-night around the fire we'll draw, 
 And you shall read the fable of the Daw. 
 
 THE QUARRELSOME DA"W. 
 
 Far up the cliff's tall, rugged side, 
 Some Daws had long possession had : 
 
 These rocks, which rose above the tide, 
 
 With shrubs and small green trees were clad. 
 
 Here, undisturbed, their nests long stood, 
 And, with their young, sweet peace had been ; 
 
 But one cross bird, among their brood, 
 Promoting quarrels oft was seen. 
 
 They chase each other on the wing, 
 
 And, whirling o'er, plumb down they go ; 
 
 With pinions bent, now up they spring, 
 Now skim the air in motion slow. 
 
 But this, their play, the wicked daw, 
 
 To interrupt took much delight : 
 Contrived them into broils to draw, 
 
 And their dispute end in a fight. 
 
 The first was he to set them on, 
 
 And praised the skill the champions used ; 
 But was himself a mere poltroon, 
 
 And did not like his own sides bruised. 
 
THE MOTHEU'S FABLES. 87 
 
 Yet bragged so much, and talked of wars, 
 
 And the disgrace all cowards merit ; 
 That he was praised among the Daws, 
 
 Who thought he was a bird of spirit. 
 
 Once boasting, he on some prevailed, 
 
 To venture far a-field for food ; 
 When they were by some Hooks assailed, 
 
 Who threat the Daws with war and blood. 
 
 But, oh ! their captain, where was he ? 
 
 The braggart bold, he now had fled ; 
 When blows he heard were like to be, 
 
 He turned, and back in terror sped. 
 
 Now feathers thick about them lie ; 
 
 The field, 'tis said, was dearly bought ; 
 Their enemies they drove away ; 
 
 Their leader fled, yet brave they fought. 
 
 Now back return' d, with conquest crown' d, 
 They sought the Daw that fled the fight ; 
 
 The coward in a hole they found, 
 
 And dragg'd their captain forth to light ! 
 
 Loudly his famous deeds they tell : 
 Even the young ones at him shout : 
 
 Next from the crowd they him expel, 
 And now alone he sneaks about. 
 
8 THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 
 
 Thus he a fine example proves 
 To all who are to strife inclin'd ; 
 
 Caution to him who discord loves, 
 And curb to him of fiery mind. 
 
 Among them broils no more we hear, 
 For no one dares the gauntlet throw : 
 
 Courage, they think, will best appear, 
 To guard their nests 'gainst Rook or Crow. 
 
 EDWARD TEASES A HELPLESS BOY. 
 
 " ! mother, we have had such fun, 
 I'll tell you what the boys have done ; 
 There's William Grove, who lov'd to rule, 
 And be the first in all the school ; 
 Altho' he is so stout and tall, 
 And quite the biggest boy of all, 
 The very smallest he would strike, 
 Which brought upon him our dislike. 
 Yet dar'd we not our hatred show, 
 Because he was so strong, you know. 
 But he has got a fine reward, 
 ]f or down he fell in the play-yard ; 
 
THE MOTHER'S FABLES. 89 
 
 By which he sprain' d his ancle so, 
 That he is lame, and cannot go : 
 So we have never ceas'd all day 
 To tease and mock him in our play." 
 
 " Then you have been a naughty boy 
 How could you such a play enjoy ? 
 You know, you ever must refrain 
 Irom sport that gives another pain. 
 I hope in you no malice lies, 
 Tor we must love our enemies ; 
 And good for evil to return, 
 A lesson is that you must learn : 
 Besides, my Edward, 'tis a shame 
 To take advantage of the lame. 
 But this misconduct I will try 
 In fable to exemplify. 
 
 THE OWL AND OTHER BIRDS. 
 
 It is a moonlight night, 
 The Owl has left her tow'r ; 
 
 She loves its soften' d light 
 She loves the midnight hour. 
 
 Loud hoots her dismal song, 
 
 For the departed day ; 
 And, in the woods among, 
 Is seeking her small prey. 
 
90 THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 
 
 The careless, sleeping birds, 
 Or mouse, will be her food : 
 
 No hooting now disturbs 
 The silence of the wood.* 
 
 But vain she prowls around ; 
 
 No meal has she enjoy'd; 
 No tempting morsel found, 
 
 To fill the craving void. 
 
 The night was on the wane, 
 The star of morning rose ; 
 
 Yet she could nothing gain, 
 And fierce her hunger grows. 
 
 She wanders all the night, 
 And yet she finds no prey; 
 
 Or in the dim twilight, 
 Or in the morning grey. 
 
 The sun now gilds the sky, 
 Still she is on the wing ; f 
 
 Nor heeds her dazzled eye, 
 For hunger's pangs now sting. 
 
 * Their hooting is never heard when after their prey. 
 
 t It sometimes happens that obeying the dictates of appetite, 
 rather than of prudence, they continue their researches until 
 broad day breaks in upon them, and leaves them dazzled and 
 bewildered, and unable to trace their way back. 
 
THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 91 
 
 The growing light of day 
 
 She can no longer bear ; 
 Yet how to find her way, 
 
 All blinded by the glare. 
 
 Oh ! for I shady bower, 
 
 Or hollow of a tree ; 
 Or her own ruin'd tower, 
 
 Where she at peace might be. 
 
 Now whither could she fly ? 
 
 At last, she thought to hide 
 Close in a thick hedge nigh, 
 
 And there, 'till night, abide. 
 
 But soon there spread alarms, 
 
 The Owl she was abroad; 
 The birds are up in arms, 
 
 As if with one accord. 
 
 Tfce Black-bird, Thrush, and Jay, 
 
 As strongest, head the rest ; 
 But no small birds away, 
 
 Or Swallow, or Red-breast. 
 
 And now are heard their cries ; 
 
 The -uproar now begins ; 
 Each to insult her tries ; 
 
 They flap her with their wings. 
 
92 THE MOTHER'S TABLES. 
 
 The Owl can see no foe : 
 Dizzy she turns her head ; 
 
 And stooping bends her low, 
 With her broad wings outspread. 
 
 But nothing will avail, 
 
 She is but more their scorn ; 
 
 Their malice does not fail, 
 But patiently is borne. 
 
 They whirl around her head, 
 
 The clamour grows more strong ; 
 
 And as the hours fled, 
 
 More numerous was the throng. 
 
 The clouds of night appear, 
 The Owl springs from the fence ; 
 
 They fly, all wild with fear ; 
 Where's now their insolence ? 
 
 Ah ! they repent them sore, 
 That they have teas' d her so ; 
 
 And promise never more 
 To insult a fallen foe. 
 
 She caught the foremost bird, 
 His struggles were in vain ; 
 
 His distant cries were heard, 
 But none saw him again. 
 
PAET II. 
 
 TALES AND FABLES H VERSE. 
 
 Animals are always able 
 
 To hold discourse, at least in fable ; 
 
 They whom truth and wisdom lead, 
 
 Can gather honey from a weed. COWPER. 
 
PART II. 
 
 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE GOSSIPPING GOOSE 97 
 
 THE ROBBER WASP Avarice 99 
 
 THE SATIRICAL MONKEY 101 
 
 THE BLIND MOLE 102 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE FIRE 104 
 
 THE GUARA BIRD 105 
 
 THE CAT GOING FISHING 108 
 
 THE CUCKOO AND STARLING Egotism 109 
 
 THE ANTELOPE Curiosity 110 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER AND WAGGONER ; or, Self-importance 112 
 
 THE CHATTERING MAGPIE 113 
 
 THE CARELESS KITTEN 114 
 
 THE NERVOUS SPARROW Discontent 116 
 
 THE Fox AND THE ABB Misapplied talents 119 
 
 THE MONKEY'S REVENGE 120 
 
 THE ANT-LION'S DEN 121 
 
 THE LYING TRAVELLER Exaggeration 124 
 
 THE OWL AND THE RAVEN Pride of Family 127 
 
 THE EAGLE AND WREN 129 
 
 MISPLACED PITY 131 
 
 THE FISHES' SONG 131 
 
 THE MUSICAL Ass The Blindness of Self-Admiration ... 134 
 
 LITTLE FRANK AND HIS SISTER 136 
 
 THE CONCEITED DONKEY "It's enough to crouch to a 
 
 Lion" 138 
 
96 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE ENVIOUS KID 140 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SNAIL 144 
 
 THE WADDLING DUCK Accuse not others of the faults 
 
 we ourselves commit 146 
 
 THE TULIP AND DAISY Pride 147 
 
 THE FIELD-MOUSE OF THE AFRICAN DESERT 149 
 
 THE Two FAWNS 150 
 
 FLOWERS OF THE OCEAN 157 
 
 THE SNOWDROP'S COMPLAINT 157 
 
 SONG TO THE BEE 158 
 
 THE HEARTSEASE 159 
 
 THE ROBIN RELEASED FROM ITS CAGE 160 
 
 THE EGGER MOTH 161 
 
 THE BALSAM TREE 163 
 
 THE GLOWWORM 164 
 
 THE SAILOR-BOY TO THE SWALLOW 165 
 
 THE TWELVE MONTHS 166 
 
 THE PRIMROSE 169 
 
 THE ECHO 170 
 
 THE YOUNG GIRL AND THE NIGHTINGALE 171 
 
 THE GOSSAMER BOAT 172 
 
 THE GIRL IN THE DISTANT CITY (to a wandering bird)... 173 
 
 THE WOODMOUSE'S HOME 175 
 
 THE BLIND CHILD TO HER MOTHER (from the German)... 177 
 
 DEATH IN THE VILLAGE 178 
 
 TUB WHITE SHIP 180 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN TERSE, 
 
 THE GOSSIPING GOOSE. 
 
 A gossiping Goose, who to market had been, 
 
 Met a friend from the opposite side of the green ; 
 
 So she talked of the weather, of this thing and the other, 
 
 Enquired of her health, and that of her mother : 
 
 Of Gander goose green, told the scandal and news, 
 
 And did for some minutes her friend much amuse, 
 
 When she suddenly cried " But I'm in a fright, 
 
 " Quite well convinced all at home is not right ; 
 
 " I met our old enemy Renard, just now, 
 
 " I meant merely in passing to give him a bow, 
 
 <c For I think it is better to be something civil, 
 
 " Or he may be malicious and do us more evil : 
 
 " But he would chat a little, just as he said 
 
 " To know if my marketing all was now made. 
 
 " He asked did I mean to rest by the waj, 
 
 " How many more visits 1 might have to pay. 
 
 " I trembled all over from very alarm, 
 
 Cf I am certain, dear friend, he meant me some harm. 
 
98 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 " Well, home I must haste to relieve my poor mind; 
 
 " I pray that my goslings all safe I may find : 
 
 " 'Twas a frequented road, yet well he might see 
 
 " I was not quite myself in his bad company., 
 
 " When Renard looks pleased, we must be on our guard, 
 
 " I wish I was snugly at home in the yard. 
 
 " Yes, when Renard is pleased, let us look to our brood; 
 
 " Now there are our neighbours, at the edge of the wood; 
 
 " And the cropple crown duck, that we all think so wise 
 
 " Why the fox took him in, to our no small surprise. 
 
 " The story is tedious, but yet you must hear, 
 
 " It will not keep you waiting much longer, my dear ; 
 
 "'Twas a tale full of wonder, yet she knew a still 
 
 stranger, 
 " She forgot her poor goslings, and their pressing 
 
 danger." 
 
 " Mrs. Goose," cried her friend, "to your home quickly 
 
 haste 
 
 In chatting and gossip, the moments you waste ; 
 .For while you're indulging this talkative fit 
 Your children may prove for the Fox a tit bit." 
 
 "Yes I must hasten homewards, what you say is 
 
 most true, 
 
 But what was I, my friend, remarking to you ? 
 Oh ! this I was thinking, no fear I shall lose, 
 The title I've gained of the gossiping Goose 
 I am wasting my time, or I would explain, 
 How first I obtain'd that ridiculous name, 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 99 
 
 'Twas all envy and malice, but the history's long, 
 And you know I my absence wish not to prolong : 
 Now, had I the time, there is much I could say, 
 Could elucidate much do you know, by the way, 
 When folks are surprised and look with much wonder, 
 Why they say they resemble a poor duck in thunder ?" 
 She would have talk'd thus till the day had declined, 
 When lo ! a loud cackling is heard on the wind ; 
 She looks all aghast her heart dies within her, 
 She remembers once more the old Fox's dinner : 
 When on the road, swiftly before her he flies 
 With his prey in his mouth, 'twas her own gosling's 
 
 cries ; 
 
 Think now of her horror, her shame, and her grief, 
 She knew of its danger, might have brought it relief, 
 But in gossip and folly had wasted the time, 
 Now, how deeply lamented the poor Goose her crime : 
 Long she lay in a fainting fit by the road-side 
 Her friends and her neighbours all thought she had 
 
 died. 
 
 I pray none of my readers the example may lose, 
 Or tattle again like the gossiping Goose. 
 
 THE ROBBER, WASP. 
 
 AVARICE. 
 
 A Bee was loudly humming 
 As he buzz'd a flower around ; 
 
 "I've noble barns and store-rooms, 
 What sweets may there be found. 
 
 G 2 
 
100 TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 
 
 " 'Tis pleasant to be wealthy, 
 And count our riches o'er : 
 
 My children, nor their children 
 Can ne'er, no ne'er be poor. 
 
 " From the earliest crocus 
 
 To the latest flower, 
 I gather wealth in plenty; 
 
 I'm richer every hour. 
 
 " With stores so vast and mighty 
 No ill can me betide :" 
 
 Thus mused he o'er his treasure, 
 His bosom fill'd with pride. 
 
 A Wasp was hovering near him, 
 Upon the wing for prey ;* 
 
 And marks the bunch of roses, 
 Where the Bee reposing lay 
 
 Example good for avarice, 
 Will prove this wealthy Bee : 
 
 The thief has got the honey-bag, 
 And nearly dead is he. 
 
 * Though the Wasp can gather no honey of its own, no insect 
 is fonder of sweets ; it will pursue the Bee and Humble Bee, 
 destroy them with its sting, and plunder them of their honey- 
 bag, with which it flies triumphantly loaded to its nest to regale 
 its young. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 101 
 
 With treasures so deep laden 
 
 He could not fight or fly ; 
 He fell unto the robber bold 
 
 An easy victory. 
 
 THE SATIRICAL MONKEY. 
 
 A Monkey perch 5 d on a tree some yards from the 
 
 ground, 
 Look'd around him to see whom his malice might 
 
 wound, 
 
 He'd an ill-natur'd turn, and mistaking the matter, 
 He thought all the world entertained at his chatter ; 
 He call'd it hoaxing his friends, but every one knows 
 He thus only joked when screen' d from his foes. 
 A Bear near the spot was to be now the joke, 
 In a voice of condolence Pug ^hus pertly spoke : 
 
 " I say, my dear friend, my affectionate Bruin, 
 Is it true you have danc'd yourself nearly to ruin ; 
 That your Greenland estates are all out at nurse 
 And you're most alarmingly low in the purse. 
 Indeed, it is hinted, I hope without cause, 
 That you're even reduc'd to sucking your paws." 
 Then he laugh'd out so loudly the tall wood resounded, 
 Por in grin and grimace his wit much abounded, 
 
102 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 "But the joke's not exhausted/' again shouted Pug, 
 " I say Bruin, how is it your friends you so HUG ? 
 You so fondly embrace them, you squeeze out their 
 
 breath, 
 
 So, in fact, you may say, that you love them till 
 death." 
 
 The Bear could no longer his anger restrain, 
 But cast on the wit a fierce look of disdain ; 
 But a moment soon calm'd him he made this reply : 
 
 " Remember not always the PERCH is so high : 
 
 But, poor wretch, do not tremble, you're not in a 
 
 scrape, 
 For whoe'er was hurt at the wit of an Ape." 
 
 THE BLIND MOLE. 
 
 " Oh ! Mother, 3 ' exclaimed a pert little Mole, 
 
 " How stupid it is to live in this hole ; 
 
 On my back a huge mountain of earth I have hurled 
 
 I'll get to its summit, and peep at the world. 
 
 You persuade me I'm blind, but put to the test, 
 I dare say I could manage as well as the rest ; 
 And my common place be as worth observation 
 As any, that gives the world information. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 103 
 
 Cf 0f the 'strangers abroad/ I will be the most noted, 
 And the 'Mole-hills and Moles' shall be oftenest 
 
 quoted ; 
 
 For, I'll publish, I vow, though my views are not sordid, 
 But my name must be known, and my volume applauded. 
 
 "The critics, no doubt, will be venting their spleen, 
 And pretend all I saw was indeed dimly seen; 
 And my travelled experience affect to deride, 
 And hint, those that follow me have a blind guide. 
 
 " But truly, my mother, you cannot well tell 
 I'm blind or clear-sighted, in this narrow cell ; 
 You contrive to shut out every glimmer of light, 
 Then you wish me to think it is weakness of sight." 
 
 " My child," says the Mother, " you are wisely confined, 
 For, groping in darkness, who knows you are blind ; 
 But were you exposed to the brightness of day, 
 Your blindness to all who observe you'd betray." 
 
 [The eyes of the Mole are so minute that many have doubted 
 whether they were intended for distinct vision, or only to afford 
 the animal so much sensibility of the approach of light, as 
 sufficiently to warn it of the danger of exposure. Dr. Derham, 
 however, with a microscope, plainly discovered all the parts of 
 the eye known in other animals.] 
 
104 TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE EIRE. 
 
 All by the side of a lonely brake 
 
 Some gipsies had kindled a fire. 
 A Butterfly chanced that way to take, 
 And he thought he would rest on the half -burnt 
 stake ; 
 
 "For," said he, " long journeys tire." 
 
 These fine painted flies are but silly things, 
 To be taught, they're too trifling and vain. 
 
 Senseless fool as he was, to the wood he clings ; 
 
 'Twas very well he but singed his wings, 
 And was able to fly, but with pain. 
 
 Now vows he revenge in a wonderful rage, ' 
 
 The foe he would meet in fight ; 
 But how the threatened war could he wage ? 
 How the terrible monster engage ? 
 
 No, the law should do him right. 
 
 It is neither labour nor cost I will spare 
 
 I'll conduct the thing with spirit. 
 So, having pen'd his case with care, 
 He thought to a counsellor he would repair, 
 
 Whom he knew, a person of merit. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 105 
 
 Ivy barn was the chambers of counsellor Owl, 
 
 And instantly thither he flies. 
 At study he found the learned fowl 
 His face half hid by his hooded cowl 
 
 He winked, and blinked, and looked very wise. 
 
 He read the great cause with attention due, 
 But gave his thoughts no speech; 
 
 Then con'd it again in a second view. 
 
 At length his spectacles off he drew, 
 And he hem'd an important screech. 
 
 Then the sage bird said : " Thou foolish fly "- 
 
 And in solemn tone he spoke 
 " Unless thou hast a desire to die, 
 The dangerous flame oh, come not nigh, 
 
 Approach not even the smoke" 
 
 THE GUABA BIRD. 
 
 " My dear Mamma ! I think I'm able, 
 As well as you, to write a fable ; 
 Much commendation Charles bestows, 
 And it has quite delighted Rose. 
 I think myself 'tis not amiss ; 
 Mamma, you will bestow a kiss." 
 
106 TALES AND FABLES IN VEHSE. 
 
 " Indeed, my love, I'll not refuse 
 To praise the offspring of your muse ; 
 To what fault, dearest, are you able 
 To point the moral of your fable ? " 
 " Why, no Mamma, I cannot say, 
 That my own foibles I display. 
 The other night, you know, we heard 
 Of the strange Guara bird,* 
 That, changing the colour of its plumes, 
 Five times new feathers it assumes j 
 The farther it's advanced in years, 
 Finer and richer it appears. 
 I thought quite aptly might apply 
 To old Miss Mason's finery ! 
 Who dresses out in colours gay, 
 Though she's so palsied, old, and grey. 
 The bird's bright plumes of scarlet dye, 
 With her red mantle well may vie ! " 
 " But, Lucy, though your satire's keen, 
 Did nothing whisper it had been 
 Better applied if nearer home. 
 Come, my little satirist, come, 
 Read on with care, and we will try 
 What to ourselves we may apply. 
 1 fear we have not far to look 
 Turn but the pages of your book ; 
 
 * The Guara Bird of Brazil, which the Europeans call the 
 Sea Curlew, is surprising for its often changing its colour, being 
 first black, then ash-coloured, next white, afterwards scarlet, 
 and, lastly, crimson, which grows deeper and richer the longer 
 the bird lives. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 107 
 
 Teels my Lucy nothing loath 
 
 To read the history of the Sloth?* 
 
 Or, does she no instruction want 
 
 Of the Kamschatkan Cormorant.f 
 
 She who was sick the other day, 
 
 And could not with her schoolmates play 
 
 We will not name the reason why, 
 
 Too well the Cormorant will apply." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! Mamma, I do implore ; 
 
 Oh ! not a sad example more. 
 
 Before I others teach, I see 
 
 I must myself more perfect be. 
 
 Til be no satirist again 
 
 I feel I've been both weak and vain 
 
 I'll do what wisdom will require, 
 
 And throw my fable in the fire." 
 
 * The Sloth requires an hour to advance three yards : when 
 he has climbed a tree, he is so idle that to save the trouble of 
 gradual descent, he rolls himself into a ball and falls on the 
 ground with a horrid scream. 
 
 t There is a kind of Cormorant, found chiefly on the coast of 
 Kamschatka. This is a sea bird, it flies slowly even when 
 hungry, but when ib has too much indulged its appetite it cannot 
 raise itself from the ground. 
 
108 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE CAT GOING FISHING. 
 
 Sleek Tabby Grimalkin was wondrously fond 
 
 Of reclining herself on the banks of a pond ; 
 
 There keenly she watched with her eager eye 
 
 The darts and the leaps of the finny fry; 
 
 And she thought could she dive beneath the flood, 
 
 Oh, how delicious would be her food ! 
 
 It were surely worth a seven days' fast 
 
 To have a dinner so dainty at last ; 
 
 So every day fancy made a regale, 
 
 And she eat up a fish from the head to the tail. 
 
 But though she enjoyed this exquisite dinner, 
 
 Poor Tabby's sleek sides grew thinner and thinner, 
 
 For obtaining her usual plentiful fare 
 
 Appear' d every hour less worthy her care : 
 
 Eat mice might gambol almost at her feet 
 
 She would not condescend a mouse to eat. 
 
 But where was the use of thus idly wishing ? 
 
 It never would teach her the art of fishing. 
 
 She saw Gard'ner, resolved on fish to dine, 
 
 Lean over the stream with a hook and line ; 
 
 She thought, approaching a little nearer, 
 
 She might be enabled to see yet clearer. 
 
 Poor Puss ! how like mortal man thou art ! 
 
 Blindly pursuing the wish of thy heart 
 
 On the things thou desired'st, so weakly intent. 
 
 But know, on destruction thou madly art bent ! 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 109 
 
 She is pleased, and purs, and strikes out her paws, 
 And hopes she may hook a poor fish in her claws ; 
 Leaning over the brink, as the Gard'ner taught her, 
 Poor Puss tumbles head over heels in the water. 
 
 THE CUCKOO AND STARLING. 
 
 EGOTISM. 
 
 A Cuckoo and Starling once met ; 
 
 Prom the city the Starling had flown. 
 " My dear friend," young shallow-bill screamed, 
 
 " Of our melody what says the town ? 
 
 "Do they much praise the Nightingale's song?" 
 " Truly all the town call him divine." 
 
 " The Lark, too, is he in request ?" 
 " Why, I know folks of taste think him fine." 
 
 "And the Blackbird, what say they of him ?" 
 " There's many men's praises hath he." 
 
 " So, so pray, another word more ; 
 Now, what doth the world say of me ?" 
 
 "Why, that's what I cannot well tell, 
 
 So little I know of your fame ; 
 Por whilst I resided in town, 
 
 I never once heard of your name." 
 
110 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 " How silly the ill-judging crowd ! 
 
 Then this I'm resolved I will do ; 
 Prom this hour I will speak of myself 
 
 My note shall be ever Cuckoo /" 
 
 [From the German of Gillerk. 
 
 THE ANTELOPE. 
 
 CURIOSITY. 
 
 The Antelope's flying, 
 Her covert she'll find ; 
 
 She's swift as the arrow, 
 She's fleet as the wind. 
 
 The Wolf's hungry howlings 
 
 No longer resound ; 
 Her rapid flight slack'ning, 
 
 Her quick eyes glance round. 
 
 Oh ! cruel destroyer ! 
 
 No longer pursue, 
 And an object of wonder 
 
 Alone is in view. 
 
 In her young heart, so foolish, 
 
 Curiosity burns ; 
 How strange this new object ! 
 
 See see she returns. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. Ill 
 
 Oil ! speed thee still onward, 
 
 There's much yet to fear : 
 Oh ! speed thee still onward, 
 
 Eor danger is near. 
 
 " Thou poor, simple creature, 
 
 What prize hast thou found ? 
 On what art thou gazing ? 
 What lies on the ground ? 
 
 " 'Tis the wolf there low crouching, 
 
 And panting he lies ; 
 A few yards yet nearer, 
 And thou art his prize. 
 
 " His jaws are distended ; 
 
 Yet yet there's retreat. 
 Haste haste thee, thou wing'd one ! 
 'Tis well thou art fleet. 
 
 " Oh ! why dost thou linger ? 
 Why still turns thy head? 
 'Twas but the past moment 
 Thou mightest have fled. 
 
 " Curiosity's victim, 
 
 Alas ! thou wilt be. 
 farewell ! wretched Antelope ! 
 Farewell to thee!" 
 
 [This fleet and quick-sighted animal, it is said, is generally 
 the victim of its curiosity ; when it first sees the hunter it flies 
 with great velocity ; but if he lies on the ground and holds un 
 
112 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER AND WAGONER; 
 
 OR SELF-IMPORTANCE. 
 
 It chanced upon a summer's day, 
 A wagon, loaded high with hay, 
 Was ploughing through a sandy way, 
 When it stuck fast. 
 
 The driver swears at road and lane, 
 
 He cracked his whip, and cracked again ; 
 
 But, finding all his efforts vain, 
 
 Stood quite aghast. 
 
 A Grasshopper, with heart of pride, 
 Who on the very top would ride, 
 Enjoyed the joke, and, laughing, cried : 
 
 T great my weight ! 
 
 his hat or anything, the Antelope returns on a light trot to 
 look at the object, and will sometimes go and return two or 
 three times, till it approach within reach of the rifle. The 
 Wolves, it is said, have learned as well as man, to take advan- 
 tage of the weakness of this innocent animal. They crouch 
 down, and if the Antelope be frightened at first, the Wolf 
 repeats the same manoeuvre, and they sometimes relieve 
 each other till they decoy it within their reach. Travels 
 to the source of the Missouri River, by Captains Lewis 
 and Clark.] 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEUSE. 113 
 
 " Hollo ! I say, good man, below, 
 Perhaps, my friend, you do not know 
 Why the wagon cannot go : 
 
 I am your freight." 
 
 And off he hops, these proud words said ; 
 The horses a strong effort made, 
 And the wagon onward sped ; 
 
 Then Skipjack cries : 
 
 " Now, driver, friend, did I deceive ? 
 See ! how the horses I relieve ! 
 But your thanks I'll not receive." 
 So off he hies. 
 [From the German of Gillcrk. 
 
 THE CHATTERING MAGPIE. 
 
 The cage of a Dove near a Magpie's was hanging ; 
 A Pigeon, who all day heard Maggy harangneing, 
 Rejoiced with the prisoner in kind gratulation, 
 And told her she ought to think much of her station. 
 " Your neighbour declaims by the hour till she's hoarse, 
 You must be the wiser by all her discourse." 
 The Dove made reply " 'Tis all hubbub and clatter ; 
 I assure you no wisdom I find in the matter. 
 
 B 
 
114 TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 
 
 But as for you in the live long day 
 There are not hours enough for play, 
 Words by rote, it is true, she incessantly sputters, 
 Yet never one sentence of common sense utters ; 
 Through the long hours you mention "tis what's 
 
 o'clock, Mag?' 
 
 I wish to my heart I could find her a gag. 
 The sun in the morn has scarcely uprose 
 When his odious chatter disturbs my repose, 
 To my poor harass'd nerves it gives quite a shock 
 To hear the same folly 'Mag, Mag, what's o'clock?' 
 Less annoying to me were the clack of a mill, 
 Or the smith's clanging hammer that never is still, 
 Ah ! my friend in all grief under which you may labour 
 May you still be preserv'd from a talkative neighbour; 
 Sure this is a truth we may learn every day 
 That those talk the most, who the least have to say." 
 
 THE CARELESS KITTEN. 
 
 Mistress Pussy cat said to her child, 
 "Kitty, my dear, you must not be wild; 
 But I see what I say is of no avail 
 Tor now you're whisking after your tail : 
 Such tricks in me you never saw. 
 Perhaps I wash my face with my paw, 
 Or if of watching the mice I tire, 
 I stretch a little before the fire. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 115 
 
 So little attention to me is not clear 
 
 Whether you know a mouse from a deer. 
 
 What means cats use their prey to snare 
 
 'Tis plain you neither know nor care, 
 
 Poor Kitty will starve I really dread 
 
 You'll never be able to get your bread." 
 
 " La ! dear Mamma, now what can you mean, 
 
 Would you have me all day like a doremouse 
 
 dream?" 
 
 And she heeded not, but set off on an amble 
 Just with a straw, in her way to gambol. 
 So the time past on and the day was come 
 When Kitty was taken from mother and home : 
 She was removed to a granary 
 Which she from rats and mice must free, 
 Now, had she follow'd her mother's advice 
 She might have had very good meals of mice. 
 But Kitty now grew thinner and thinner, 
 Not once in the barn, could she gain a dinner; 
 And had she been kept a day or two more 
 She had starved outright but seeing the door 
 At length unclos'd, she rushed out fleet 
 Nor stopped 'till she fell at her mother's feet : 
 " Mother, my dear wise mother, she cried, 
 Your foolish Kitty had nearly died; 
 Taught by misfortune, I now discern 
 That there are useful things to learn, 
 Believe me, mother, from this very day, 
 Not another hour I'll waste in play." 
 She kept her word and never again 
 Had Mistress Pussy cause to complain. 
 
 H 2 
 
116 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE NERVOUS SPARROW. 
 
 DISCONTENT. 
 
 A Sparrow full of discontent 
 The live-long day in murmurs spent ; 
 He would not hop, or chirp, or play, 
 So fell in quite a nervous way : 
 He would do nothing but complain, 
 Or twitter out some dismal strain. 
 A friend, who knew his spirits low, 
 Came once to chat an hour or so; 
 He asked him what his cause of grief, 
 And if he could afford relief. 
 
 n No," cried the Sparrow, ** all is vain, 
 Nothing can mitigate my pain; 
 Sure I am 'tis not disease, 
 But all has lost its -power to please. 
 Cities and towns are odious things: 
 Who'd stay in them if they had wings? 
 Nor do I much love field or heath 
 Mop'd might a bird be there to death/' 
 But most complained he of his birth, 
 A Sparrow was so little worth 
 A Sparrow was a name of scorn. 
 
 " Oh ! if I had been nobly born, 
 
TALES AND EABLES IN VEESE. 117 
 
 Proudly I'd mount into the sky: 
 
 No bird should he more blithe than L" 
 
 "Well," said the friend, "suppose you wander, 
 The King of Andes, like the Condor,"* 
 
 " Ah ! not that solitary thing, 
 Not even to become a king. 3 * 
 
 " Well, the lot may be preferred 
 Of that rare Arabian birdf 
 Who of frankincense and myrrh 
 Builds his costly sepulchre. 
 Are you content to share his fate? 
 Poets your name shall celebrate." 
 
 " Alas ! my friend, how can you name 
 So sad a fate ? what ! die in flame ? 
 Indeed, the thought but only serves 
 To rack once more my shatter' d nerves." 
 
 * This astonishing bird, whose wings are said to extend . 
 
 ghteen feet across, is found solitary on the heights of 
 
 lountains. 
 
 t The Phoenix, a fabulous bird of Arabia, is said to exist a 
 
 jntury and then to expire in a funeral pile, self-constructed, 
 
 imposed of odoriferous woods and aromatic gums, from the 
 
 shes of which a new Phoenix arises. 
 
118 TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 
 
 "You will not then object to rise 
 A lovely bird of Paradise J 
 Live in large flocks in spicy grove, 
 In all the grandeur that you love?" 
 
 t( What, friend ! to feed on morning dew ? 
 I must have grains of barley too, 
 And always on the wing in air. 
 Oh, no their lot I cannot share." 
 
 "Perhaps you'd more contented be 
 If man paid more regard to thee? 
 Were you a Partridge, now, or Pheasant, 
 Haply your life would be more pleasant." 
 
 " Ah me, my friend, don't mention it ; 
 It gives me quite an ague fit. 
 What! be roasted on a spit?" 
 
 Now gravely spoke the comforter, 
 And said : "Now one thing pray infer 
 From our discourse that your sad fate 
 Is not so hard. In every state 
 He can some dire misfortune find 
 Who hath a discontented mind. 
 
 J Whatever is rare and beautiful is sure to give rise t 
 fiction, some have described the Bird of Paradise as au in 
 habitant of the air, only living on the dew of Heaven, am 
 never resting on the earth. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 119 
 
 THE EOX AND THE ASS. 
 
 MISAPPLIED TALENTS. 
 
 A vicious young Fox of satire was full, 
 Because a poor Ass looked heavy and dull : 
 "Eriend," he cries, "thou'rt the flattest thing under 
 
 the sun, 
 Be like me, now all wit, animation, and fun. 
 
 " My mots and my jeux-d* esprit always are cited, 
 And every gay circle with me is delighted ; 
 A master in stratagem, plot, and pretence, 
 I suit all around me, because I've more sense. 
 
 " Were I the proud Lion's companion, to be, 
 
 You would see how his highness were governed by 
 
 me; 
 
 Did he wish for a statesman to lighten his cares, 
 Me he'd place, I'm convinced, at the head of affairs." 
 
 "You may have great talents/' the Ass he replied, 
 " And mean are my gifts, but I rest satisfied. 
 If mischief was goodness, and plotting was merit, 
 Why then you might boast of your fire and spirit. 
 
120 TALES AND TABLES IN TERSE. 
 
 " But when talent is used to no better end, 
 Than to outwit and cozen your very best friend ; 
 And your mind but exerted to work up some trick, 
 Rob a ewe of her lamb, or a hen of her chick. 
 
 "No mischief is done the whole country round, 
 But you, Mr. Renard, the culprit are found ; 
 Believe me, my friend, things are come to this pass, 
 Less respected the wise Eox, than is the dull Ass." 
 
 THE MONKEY'S REVENGE. 
 
 There sat on a cocoa-tree's topmost bough, 
 Some mischievous monkeys, one day ; 
 
 The story says so, whether true or no, 
 Though I've read it, I cannot say. 
 
 A weary and thirsty traveller came, 
 
 Rejoicing to see that tree; 
 But the nuts hung so high, that with piteous cry, 
 
 He said, "They are not for me I 
 
 " I have drained my cruise to the very dregs, 
 
 And I shall die of thirst ; 
 Oh ! of what use were that milky juice 
 
 I drink, or else die I must ! " 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 121 
 
 If he could but gain one, what a deed was done, 
 So his cap 'mong the boughs he threw ; 
 
 When, quite enraged, a war was waged 
 By the grinning, chattering crew. 
 
 The mischievous mimics thought it just 
 
 That they revenged should be ; 
 And their anger to show, they began to throw 
 
 The nuts from off the tree. 
 
 So may it befall, to enemies all, 
 
 To work our good, not woe ; 
 Tor his thirst was allayed, and his life was saved, 
 
 By the malice of the foe. 
 
 THE ANT-LION'S DEN. 
 
 A young Ant, who was sent on some business one day, 
 Was taught by his mother the readiest way ; 
 She warned him of dangers that lurked in his road; 
 Above all, he must shun the Ant-lion's abode. 
 
 " You know, my poor child, you have too little wit 
 To know how to wind round that dangerous pit ; 
 So you must avoid it, and turn to the right, 
 And stop not your speed till it's hid from your sight.'* 
 
122 TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 
 
 He said, " Mother, dear, your advice I rely on ;" 
 But still as he went he mused on the Ant-lion, 
 "What, he thought, does he live in the sand of his 
 
 cave, 
 With his horns only seen, strange sight it must have. 
 
 " I think I might creep round the edge of the den, 
 Just peep over a little, and run back again ; 
 'Twas wrong in my mother to make this alarm, 
 Just peeping a little, can do me no harm. 
 
 " She will call it presumptuous, but I think it brave ; 
 How much I shall talk of the horrible cave, 
 And all Ike young ants will so wonder and stare 
 To think, I had done that which none of them dare." 
 
 So he turned to the pit, but slow was his tread, 
 His heart it beat quick, he had some little dread, 
 Thought of all he had heard of this monster so fell ; 
 And all the strange stories that travellers tell. 
 
 How you reach the loose edge of the perilous steep, 
 Then how moulders the false sand from under your 
 
 feet: 
 
 How, when a poor insect, has fall'n in his power, 
 He never is heard of, from that fatal hour. 
 
 He wished to return, but presumption and pride 
 Made him still once again in himself to confide ; 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 123 
 
 My mother, thought he, said, (t avoid the dire pit, 
 Because you are young, and have so little wit. 
 
 But convince her I will, that I am a wise ant, 
 And that none of her careful instruction I want : 
 So urged on by folly, and blinded by pride, 
 He reached in a minute the den's fatal side. 
 
 "Tis said that he took a round-about sweep, 
 
 Where the sand seemed the firmest he ventured to 
 
 peep, 
 
 Though he thought he was wiser than all ants before, 
 Yet like the rest, he was heard of no more. 
 
 As he never returned, they knew that his grave 
 Had been by his folly, the Ant-lion's cave : 
 And they said that his fate recorded should be 
 As a terrible warning to their colony. 
 
 [The Ant-Lion obtains its food by stratagem. She constructs 
 a pit of a funnel shape in a sandy soil ; when finished, she buries 
 herself in the sand at the bottom, leaving only her horns 
 visible. Here she awaits her prey. When an Ant or any other 
 small insect walks over the edges of the hollow, the sand 
 moving gives notice to the ; Ant-Lion; she immediately throws 
 up the sand that covers her head to overwhelm the Ant, and 
 with its returning force brings it to the bottom.] 
 
TALES AND SABLES IN TERSE. 
 
 THE LYING TRAVELLER. 
 
 EXAGGERATION. 
 
 A peasant boy, a traveller with his master far had been, 
 Returning to his native home what wonders he had 
 
 seen: 
 
 His brothers and companions all listened with surprise, 
 And thought what food for wonderment a foreign land 
 supplies. 
 
 But the sad mischance of travellers to him also befell, 
 Not always truth, the simple truth, did our young 
 
 peasant tell ; 
 
 The father saw with bitter grief this folly of his son, 
 And in his honest mind resolved, what best was to be 
 
 done. 
 
 At length he did remember him a legend strange and 
 
 wild, 
 That he had often listened to with wonder, when a 
 
 child, 
 
 Relating to a rocky glen, not many miles from home ; 
 And to the spot he thought he would persuade the boy 
 
 to roam. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VEKSE. 125 
 
 So one fine day the old man asked his son to take a 
 
 walk, 
 When the boy, as was his custom, of things he'd seen 
 
 would talk ; 
 
 "Father," he said, "I've seen a dog, now do not 
 
 think I dream, 
 You have not got a horse so large, no, not in all your 
 
 team. 
 
 " 'Twas at the Hague, my father, this dog was shown 
 
 to me, 
 But we, that have been travellers, 'tis strange what 
 
 sights we see/' 
 
 " It may be," said the father, " The fact I'll not with- 
 stand, 
 
 Tor well I know there are strange things peculiar to 
 each land. 
 
 " This very road we're travelling now, might fill you 
 with surprise, 
 
 There is a rocky pass before, through which our path- 
 way lies ; 
 
 And strange to say, there are some folks this path will 
 never tread, 
 
 I wonder not it gives their minds a superstitious dread. 
 
126 TALES AND FA15LES IN VERSE. 
 
 " For any one that falsehoods tell, 'tis said to be well 
 
 known, 
 Is sure to meet a stumbling block, and falls and breaks 
 
 a bone." 
 
 Oh ! how the boy's lips quivered, and he grew deadly 
 
 pale; 
 lie asked, "Is there no other path that leads through 
 
 this drear vale ? " 
 
 The old man would not hear a word, but calmly on- 
 ward jogs, 
 
 And soon the poor lad finds excuse again to speak of 
 dogs; 
 
 " I think about that dog, father, had he grown a hand 
 
 more tall, 
 He'd been, I'm sure, almost as large, as the small ox 
 
 in the stall." 
 
 " Father," again the boy repeats, the way's gone more 
 
 than half, 
 
 That dog I saw, I'm sure he was as big as any calf : 
 At length he spied the rugged pass, the craggy rocks 
 
 and stones, 
 He trembled, stopt, and almost felt the pain of broken 
 
 bones. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 127 
 
 But the old man still paid no regard, he plodded on his 
 
 way, 
 " My son, why are you loitering ? 'tis nearly closing 
 
 day;" 
 The frowning rocks were close at hand, one step and 
 
 he was there, 
 But to move an inch more forward, the liar did not 
 
 dare. 
 
 " The dog," at last he stammered out, " I mentioned 
 
 at the Hague, 
 
 I think, perhaps, dear father, I spoke a little vague ;" 
 Eor now upon the dreaded spot his trembling feet he 
 
 found, 
 " I do assure you, father, 'twas really a large hotmd." 
 
 THE OWL AND THE EAYEN. 
 
 PRIDE OF FAMILY.' 
 
 The tale of Miss Owl to you is well known, 
 Who, at Ivy Bush Tower, in pride lived alone. 
 To some more of her folly would you now attend, 
 If you please, I'll interpret her talk with a friend. 
 
128 ' TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 To a Raven perched near she directs her discourse, 
 And you hear his replies, in those croakings so hoarse. 
 Miss Owl always boasting, now talking is she, 
 Of her noble descent, and her long pedigree. 
 
 She affected poor Ralph's humbler claims to deride, 
 
 All the while she's exulting in family pride. 
 
 "You see this fine^^&stle, 'twas my poor mother's 
 
 dower, 
 But now I'm sole heiress of Ivy Bush Tower. 
 
 "My great grandsire the Judge (how high was his 
 
 station) ; 
 
 Why, this place was the boast of his generation. 
 I suppose, Mr. Ralph, you have no country seat ; 
 But in some decay'd oak tree, have found a retreat. 
 
 " Your relations the Kites, are strange, vulgar people ; 
 And your cousins the Daws, I think, live in the steeple ; 
 And as for your uncle, that old carrion Crow, 
 We know his pursuits and his tastes are quite low." 
 
 But now you may hear, by his deep, angry croak, 
 Mr. Ralph thinks her talking no longer a joke. 
 " Come, come, Mrs. Owlet," in rage he replies, 
 "Proud folks and vain boasters we only despise. 
 
 " Pray, where is your merit ? as far as I see, 
 In your own silly brain the notion must be ; 
 I know that they think you a bird of ill omen 
 You're hated by some, and regarded by no man. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VEKSE. 129 
 
 "And why should it give you importance, I pray, 
 That you live in a house tumbling down in decay ; 
 You may spend all your days in the midst of your ruin, 
 And still nurse your spleen, and new mischief be brewing. 
 
 " For none will dispute your right to these stones 
 Who have any regard for their life or their bones ; 
 You waste all your time here half-dozing, I see ; 
 What good do you do, that you're better than me ?" 
 
 But whilst angry Ralph was the lady advising, 
 The blast of a north wind was suddenly rising ; 
 And with still more effect gave some wholesome 
 
 instruction 
 The cause of her pride bringing down her destruction. 
 
 Eor the wind it blew strong, and prone to the ground 
 
 Eell the turret that Owly a refuge had fqund ; 
 
 And Ralph tells the tale, and has croalral from that 
 
 hour, 
 Of the fate of the heiress of Ivy Bush Tower. 
 
 THE EAGLE AND THE WHEN. 
 
 An Eagle, the king of the air, 
 
 Peep'd once in the nest of a Wren, 
 
 " Ah ! " he cries, " what a pleasant home, 
 I've lived now years fourscore and ten. 
 
130 TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 " I have lived till you see I am grey, 
 And 'tis now for the first time confest, 
 
 Ear happier thfcn Eagles, are they 
 
 Who are hatched in this Wren's little nest. 
 
 "Quiet, humble, and to the ground nigh, 
 How snug is this hole in the wall ; 
 
 Whilst I in my eyry so high 
 Still tremble for fear of a fall. 
 
 " And what a supply in your larder, 
 I your Monarch am not better fed ; 
 
 I am sure that I some days fare harder, 
 And what plumy down is your bed. 
 
 "And what a fine family's here, 
 How many young heads do I see ? 
 
 Eighteen if my vision is clear, 
 
 Many more than are given to me." 
 
 " Be hushed now your Majesty's moan," 
 Cries the Wren, "or you'll own me superior; 
 
 'Tis a maxim, that none will disown, 
 He who envies, must be the inferior" 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 131 
 
 ft 
 
 MISPLACED PITY. 
 
 "Mother, sure Nature to fish is not kind, 
 
 Stupid and dumb, deaf and half blind, 
 
 No taste or smell either, these poor creatures know, 
 
 And their very life blood, 0, how cold does it flow, 
 
 So little sensation, what can they enjoy ? 
 
 They have nothing to do, but to eat and destroy." 
 
 "Well, my dear Earnest, I will not dispute 
 That your friends the fishes are both deaf and mute ; 
 Though their senses, my child, are more blunted than 
 
 ours, 
 
 Yet well suited to them are their limited powers ; 
 And to prove that some pleasure to them may belong 
 Suppose now a little fish sings you a song." 
 
 THE FISHES' SONG. 
 
 Pleasant our home of waters wide, 
 Sweet on the waveless calm to glide ; 
 Or sporting on an angry sea, 
 No covert from the storm ask we. 
 
 Nor heats or chills to us are sent, 
 What change is in our element ; 
 
 12 
 
132 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Sheltered in Oceans depths we lay, 
 Till Summer calls in sunny May.* 
 
 4 
 
 Then on the shelvy shore we bask, 
 Higher delights we do not ask, 
 We are not tied like you to home, 
 But through a world of waters roam. 
 
 From the cold seas of Labradore 
 To Spain's far distant southern shore ; 
 Thus voyage we from the seas afar, 
 Nor ask for needle, or guiding star. 
 
 And e'er our season's task is done, 
 A thousand leagues perhaps are run, 
 Our trackless way as we pursue, 
 Have we not joys unknown to you? 
 
 Our oar-like fins, and rudder tail 
 Mock the canvass floating sail ; 
 We dart with speed, and can outstrip 
 The swiftness of the winged ship, f 
 
 * In summer fish abound in shallows near the shore where 
 tho sun has power to warm the water to the bottom, but in 
 winter they frequent the greatest depths of the sea, where the 
 coid of the atmosphere is not sufficiently penetrating to reach 
 thorn. 
 
 t Any of the larger kind of fish overtake a ship in full sail 
 with great ease. They will undertake a voyage of a thousand 
 1 agues in a season. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 133 
 
 Yet never with fatigue opprest 
 Motion to us is nearly rest, 
 Whilst you move heavy, dull, and slow, 
 We shoot like arrows from a bow. 
 
 Roam where we list in the green sea, 
 How happy, happy must we be; 
 Of nature shall a fish complain 
 Who knows not sickness, age, nor pain. 
 
 Ours are always days of prim'ef 
 Augmented growth, but marking time ; 
 Youth renewed from day to day, 
 Vigour, that never knows decay. 
 
 We joy in life's protracted length, 
 Age is but the increase of strength 5 
 Ah ! happier far than things that creep 
 Are we, the dwellers of the deep. 
 
 Oh ! could you dive beneath the waves 
 To see our coral grots and caves, 
 See with what wonders it is stored 
 Our deep abode ne'er yet explored. 
 
 t Fish still keeping growing; their bodies instead of ex- 
 periencing the rigidity of age, which is the cause of natural 
 decay in land animals, still continue increasing with fresh 
 supplies. How long a fish's life may last is not yet ascer- 
 tained. 
 
334 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Upon the golden sand there lies 
 The thousand weeds of thousand dies ; 
 Myriads of creatures there have birth 
 More wondrous far than owns the earth. 
 
 Come dive with me and you shall see 
 The hidden treasures of our sea ; 
 Oh ! we are happy, gay, and free, 
 Thus sang the little fish in glee. 
 
 THE MUSICAL ASS. 
 
 THE BLINDNESS OF SELF-ADMIRATION. 
 
 An Ass who went with wares to town, 
 Returned quite spruce a dandy grown ; 
 Reaching his native fields again, 
 Viewed his late friends with high disdain. 
 
 He bit the thistles with an air 
 That made his poor companions stare : 
 And such a beau, so much in fashion, 
 His tidy coat had not a splash on. 
 
 But where his pride the most was raised, 
 And he most often fished for praise, 
 "Was his own piercing vocal tone, 
 'Twas that he would descant upon. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 135 
 
 He said his notes were all the rage, 
 Not equalled on the Opera stage; 
 That Nature made his ears so long 
 That he might melodise his song. 
 
 You might hear the greenwoods ringing, 
 To what poor donkey thought was singing; 
 He would instruct a Calf one day 
 To learn his own peculiar bray. 
 
 Next wished to teach the folded sheep 
 How more melodiously to bleat : 
 A watch-dog once whose bay sonorous 
 Could waken echo's voice to chorus, 
 
 Took the task on him as a friend 
 Poor Donkey's pride to reprehend ; 
 He said, " all Nature's melodies 
 You say your singing far outvies. 
 
 " But in whose judgment now, I pray, 
 Does your harsh discordant bray 
 The soft bleat of the flocks surpass ? 
 Why in the judgment of an AN Ass." 
 
136 TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 
 
 LITTLE FRANK AND HIS SISTER. 
 
 Prank and his sister dress'd in pride 
 
 Once walked to school together ; 
 The boy had his new suit of clothes, 
 
 The girl a hat and feather. 
 
 They minced their feet, they tossed their heads, 
 
 'Twas laughable to see, 
 They look'd so proud as though they said, 
 
 Now, who's so fine as we. 
 
 And when the school-room they had gain'd, 
 
 And open thrown the door, 
 Their master gazed with some surprise 
 
 To see the clothes they wore. 
 
 He was a wise and pleasant man, 
 
 And well could read the heart ; 
 And even to his school he sought 
 
 Some lesson to impart. 
 
 And when he saw the vanity 
 
 Of foolish Prank and Ann, 
 To cure them of their silly pride, 
 
 He thought him of a plan. 
 
 w Why, children," said he, " how you dress, 
 Your clothes have all been worn ; 
 
 They are but cast-off suits, I see~ 
 Nay, look not with such scorn. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VEESE. 137 
 
 " Eor I can prove the words I say. 
 
 "What ! have you never heard, 
 Your clothes are cast-off suits at best 
 
 Of beast, or worm, or bird. 
 
 "Still are you doubtful? listen then; 
 
 I'll call them all by name. 
 Come, Ostrich, snatch that feather fine, 
 
 Tor each his own shall claim. 
 
 " Here, Beaver, come, and take Prank's hat, 
 
 And Sheep, his -suit so gay ; 
 Calf, take his shoes, and Kid, his gloves ; 
 
 Come, take them all away. 
 
 ( And now, my silly little Ann ; 
 
 Come, Silkworm, hither crawl; 
 He must have bonnet and pelisse, 
 
 And sash, and gloves, and all. 
 
 " Now, where are all your borrowed plumes P 
 
 But I'll no more deride ; 
 So never let your clothes again 
 
 Be food for silly pride." 
 
138 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE CONCEITED DONKEY. 
 
 "IT'S ENOUGH TO CROUCH TO A LION." 
 
 The stars were hid, no moon was shining, 
 
 When Renard sought a meal ; 
 And all about the woods went prying, 
 
 To see what he could steal. 
 
 He starts in terror at the gleaming 
 
 Of a strange and fitful light ; 
 The wily felon shakes and cowers, 
 
 Tilled with horror and affright. 
 
 What can be those torches burning? 
 
 The flashing of a Lion's eye ; 
 Renard, you are close upon him 
 
 It is useless now to fly. 
 
 So, feigning courage, bowing lowly : 
 
 "May 5 t please your Majesty's high grace,- 
 
 From a distance your poor servant 
 Humbly seeks your noble place. 
 
 " He comes, with reverence, on a mission, 
 Offers your highness royal cheer ; 
 
 For, on the border of your river, 
 Your slave has seen a herd of deer. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 139 
 
 "And from the booty he craves humbly, 
 
 Merely craves one pound of meat ; 
 Content that he, your slave unworthy, 
 
 Should afford your grace a treat." 
 
 The Sovereign smiled his approbation ; 
 
 His heart was bounding- with delight. 
 " My worthy friend, to-morrow morning, 
 
 Believe me, I will dub you Knight. 
 
 " And now, good Renard, I must swiftly 
 Through the forest take my flight, 
 
 Or the dark and flowing river 
 I shall never reach to-night." 
 
 With dignity his right paw kissing, 
 And nod^jng twice his regal head, 
 
 O'er the brushwood lightly bounding, 
 Away the Monarch-Lion sped. 
 
 The Eox can draw his breath now freely, 
 And a weight has left his heart, 
 
 When the braying of a donkey 
 Once more made sly Renard start. 
 
 The Ass had heard the whole proceeding 
 
 Erom a covert lurking near; 
 " Ho ! Mr. Eox, you show good breeding 
 
 When you're overcome with fear. 
 
140 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 "I'll make him tremble !" so he shouted: 
 "Why, Renard, you are just a fool, 
 
 And to that horrid old King-Lion 
 You've made yourself a perfect tool. 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! my dear and cunning neighbour ! 
 
 Yes yes now we shall see ; 
 If I but kicked you, ah ! you'd truckle, 
 
 Yes, and crouch down low to me." 
 
 "Ho !" laughed the Fox; "ho ! ho ! poor donkey! 
 
 Now this you may rely on : 
 "Tis quite enough, in one night, truly, 
 
 To crouch down to a Lion" 
 
 THE ENVIOUS KID. 
 
 Oh! the hills are very pleasant, 
 
 Where the thyme's sweet blossoms grow; 
 And the heather-bells by thousands, 
 
 And the mountain-stream doth flow. 
 
 Oh ! the hills are very pleasant ! 
 
 Where the grey rock rears its head, 
 And the larch-trees, to the breezes 
 
 Dance their tiny tassels red. 
 
The Envious Kid. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 141 
 
 On these hills, so saith the story, 
 
 Centuries ago did dwell, 
 A Goat, with two young kids, her children, 
 
 And their mother loved them well. 
 
 Loved them fondly did their mother; 
 
 Happy might their lives have been, 
 Had these brothers loved each other, 
 
 But fell envy came between. 
 
 One little Kid was sur-named Beauty, 
 Its hair was silky and snow white ; 
 
 In truth it was a lovely creature, 
 And its eyes were large and bright. 
 
 Oh ! how the Shepherd's children loved it, 
 
 And the little creature fed, 
 Every morn and every evening, 
 
 With new milk and whitest bread. 
 
 How fared his elder brother, Tawny ? 
 
 No dainty food or milk had he ; 
 His hair was rough, and coarse, and matted; 
 
 He was as ugly as could be. 
 
 And his heart was just as ugly, 
 Filled with envy, hate, and scorn ; 
 
 Thought he, " / should be loved and cherished, 
 Had my brother ne'er been bom." 
 
142 TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 
 
 Oh ! those hills were very pleasant ! 
 
 Scented with the yellow broom; 
 But Tawny saw no blossoms golden, 
 
 They were shadow'd o'er with gloom. 
 
 Green and fresh the grass was growing; 
 
 With loathing, Tawny turned away ; 
 Ever watching his young brother, 
 
 His hate grew stronger day by day. 
 
 These hills were skirted by a forest, 
 Very gloomy, dark, and wide, 
 
 There, amidst its tangled thickets, 
 Did the savage wolf abide. 
 
 Spoke the old Goat, " Never wander 
 
 In the forest vast and drear, 
 Eearful creatures haunt its coverts, 
 
 You their distant howls may hear.'* 
 
 " Hasten, Beauty, my dear brother," 
 Thus said Tawny, one fine day, 
 
 "In yon green wood waits my mother, 
 You'll join her there she bids me say." 
 
 Away skips Beauty, nothing doubting, 
 Down the rocky way he past: 
 
 Ah ! thought Tawny, grimly scowling, 
 " That fine chase will be your last." 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 143 
 
 " To yonder distant crag I'll hasten 
 From thence the forest I can see; 
 
 And I shall learn, by looking downwards, 
 What my brother's fate may be." 
 
 He reached the rock, and on it standing, 
 
 Gazed adown the giddy height; 
 Ear below him lay the forest, 
 
 Solemn, vast, and dark as night. 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I hear a dismal howling ; 
 
 Sure they've caught the Beauty now: 
 Stay, listen, is not that a bleating 
 
 In the distance, faint and low." 
 
 O'er the crag his neck far stretching, 
 Pilled with hatred, and with spite; 
 
 Lo ! a crash, he's lost his footing, 
 Headlong, tumbling down the height. 
 
 Headlong tumbling, crashing downwards, 
 At the mountain's foot he lies, 
 
 A gaunt old wolf, with savage growling, 
 On the lifeless body flies. 
 
 And where is Beauty ? did his brother's 
 Wicked, wicked, plot succeed ? 
 
 No, the good so says some writer, 
 Oft find succour in their need. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 And so it was with little Beauty, 
 He had reached the forest drear, 
 
 And his heart had died within him, 
 Eor he saw no mother near. 
 
 But the shepherd, coming homewardi 
 Found him in this dismal plight, 
 And in his arms he bore him gently 
 Till his homestead was in sight. 
 
 Oh ! the hills were very pleasant ! 
 
 Little Beauty loved them well ; 
 Long he lived with his dear mother, 
 
 How many years I cannot tell. 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SNAIL. 
 
 Through the boundless fields of air, 
 What insect can with me compare; 
 Pleasant is the race I run, 
 Happy daughter of the sun. 
 
 See me in the warm beams dancing, 
 Its brightest rays upon me glancing; 
 .As my glorious wings unfold, 
 Ereek'd with silver, and with gold. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 145 
 
 Ermine robes, so costly fine, 
 Are not so beautiful as mine ; 
 My home I find in fairest flower, 
 Lily, or Harebell, is my bower. 
 
 I sit upon their pointal's tip, 
 Their honied nectary to sip ; 
 I would not be a thing to creep, 
 My nose just out of home to peep. 
 
 " Old Hodmandod how do you breathe 
 The weight of that rock house beneath, 
 I wonder you that have some sense 
 Can. chuse so dull a residence. 
 
 " From henceforth I your rocky hall 
 Shall always ' Gloomy castle ' call ; " 
 The snail who heard the vaunting ily, 
 To these faint words made no reply, 
 
 But thrusting out his horns some way 
 Seemed much to meditate the day ; 
 And looking most profoundly wise 
 Bade his gay friend observe the skies. 
 
 The hurrying clouds that darkly lower 
 Portending tempest, and a shower, 
 " Neighbour, I really feel afraid, 
 You are so sprucely dress' d," he said. 
 
146 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 " I counsel you to hasten home, 
 Be well advised, no further roam ; 
 Or else I fear the beating rain, 
 Will give your ermine coat a stain. 
 
 " See, see, the drops now wet your wing, 
 Your costly robes about you cling, 
 Haste to your bower without a roof, 
 I hope you'll find it waterproof." 
 
 The fly replied, "It is too true, 
 Cannot your castle shelter two ? " 
 " Oh yes, quite snug, but just a squeeze." 
 " Dear friend, consent, I feel the breeze. 
 
 " And long ere this the wind has rent 
 The silken curtains of my tent ; 
 Ah neighbour snail, 1 freely own 
 That pleasant is your house of stone." 
 
 THE WADDLING DUCK. 
 
 ACCUSE NOT OTHERS OF THE FAULTS WE OURSELVES 
 COMMIT. 
 
 A young Duck that could just sayxjuack, 
 Scarcely the down plume off his back, 
 Was swimming most affectedly, 
 When a Goose he chanced to see. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 147 
 
 Seeming to mark her with surprise, 
 " Cousin, a word wilh you," he cries ; 
 " You walk upon the pond side there 
 With such a fine and gallant air. 
 
 " A little nearer pray advance, 
 Oh ! surely you must learn to dance; 
 Prithee now Coz, to me impart 
 Of walking gracefully the art. 3 ' 
 
 "Yes " cried the Goose, "I'll give to thee 
 The whole of the deep mystery, 
 But e'er the secret I confide 
 You must be walking by my side." 
 
 {from the German. 
 
 THE TULIP AND DAISY. 
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 A Tulip destin'd for a prize, 
 To those around her proudly cries, 
 "Natives of distant fields we grow 
 Unvarigate of one dull hue. 
 
 Now how lovely we are found 
 Within the gardens cultured ground, 
 Painted in all the rainbow dies, 
 Our tints all other tints outvies. 
 
 K 2 
 
148 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 What love to us our master shows, 
 Unwearied labour he bestows ; 
 We are the children of his care, 
 The glory of the gay parterre." 
 
 The flowers heard her boastings vain, 
 And tossed their heads in high disdain ; 
 Then spoke a daisy from the crowd 
 "Eastern Tulip, thou art proud." 
 
 " We know thou art so highly bred, 
 Scarce can'st thou raise thy languid head, 
 And as thou weak'nest in decay, 
 So much more splendid thy array. 
 
 " Such a fine lordling among flowers, 
 We would not wish thy state were ours ; 
 Nor would I change my lot for thine, 
 Would I in sickly grandeur pine. 
 
 " Whilst thou art screen' d from every breeze, 
 
 Sunshine or shade alike me please; 
 
 And we daisys flourish still 
 
 In barren soil, or brake, or hill. 
 
 " Erail creature ! thou wilt soon decay : 
 
 Ear happier in thy humbler day 
 
 Ear happier in thy native clime, 
 
 Where health, and strength, and life were thine. 
 
 [Few plants acquire through accident, weakness, or disease, 
 .so many tints, variegations, and figures as the Tulip; when 
 uncultivated and in its natural state, it is almost of one colour, 
 with large leaves and a long stem. This masterpiece of culture, 
 the more beautiful it becomes, grows so much the weaker, so 
 that it can but with difficulty be transplanted or kept alive. 
 The Tulip grows wild in the LevantJ 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 149 
 
 THE FIELD-MOUSE OF THE AFRICAN 
 DESERT. 
 
 The sand of the desert with heat is glowing ; 
 No cooling and sparkling stream is flowing, 
 And no green spot shows that the springs are near. 
 Oh ! the rash of waters if we might hear ! 
 
 Wearily plod I the drear waste o'er ; 
 
 Man and beast are seen now no more ; 
 
 And nothing, nothing, of life breathes around : 
 
 Yes here are the Lizard and Field-mouse found. 
 
 Now tell me, thou only breathing thing, 
 Where hast thou found thy unfailing spring ? 
 Where slak'st thou thy burning thirst ? O tell 
 Where is thy ever-springing well ? 
 
 Dost thou seek in the arid and scorching dust 
 
 That which allays thy burning thirst ? 
 
 For now it is many a weary day 
 
 That the streams and the fountains have died away. 
 
 So the traveller looked with a searching eye 
 What the drought of the wilderness could supply ; 
 And beautiful was the provision descried, 
 He saw in the desert " the Lord could provide// 
 
150 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 For the dry rock a berry was made to produce, 
 The clearest water, its precious juice ; 
 So the full sweet draught the Field-mouse found, 
 While with thirst all nature was languishing round. 
 
 And furnish' d was he for a future day, 
 For stow'd in his nest his water-casks lay ; 
 In the wilderness sad 'twas a pleasant sight, 
 And the traveller past on with a heart more light. 
 
 [In these deserts (Mr. Campbell observes), animals become as 
 scarce as men, not a living creature being visible. In some 
 places, however, the Lizard and Field-mouse were found in 
 great numbers. The curiosity of the traveller was excited to 
 know how these creatures could live where a want of water had 
 banished every other living thing ; he found certain bulbous 
 plants, and water berries were made to grow in great abund- 
 ance, by which these animals easily quenched their thirst. Mr. 
 Campbell saw a little Field-mouse rolling into its hole one 
 of these berries, out of which he obtained about a thimble 
 fullofwaterj 
 
 THE TWO FAWNS. 
 
 How lovely are yon wildwoods 
 
 That stretch so far and wide 
 That sweep around the lonely lake, 
 
 And climb the green hill side. 
 It's there the deer, in pastures free, 
 
 Roam wheresoe'er they will, 
 And crop the herbage from the sward, 
 
 And drink the crystal rill. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VEKSE. 151 
 
 And there the birds, with sweeter note, 
 Erom morn till eve are singing; 
 
 All round the wood, and through the wood 
 You hear their voices ringing. 
 
 Two little Fawns once lived among 
 Those pleasant woodland bow'rs, 
 
 And, day by day, how merrily 
 They passed the summer hours ! 
 
 Their slender forms so graceful were, 
 
 Their eyes, so soft, and bright ; 
 No wonder their fond mother gazed 
 
 Upon them with delight. 
 
 As fleet they bounded by her side 
 
 Ear o'er the hills away, 
 Or chased each other up and down 
 
 Beneath the oak tree's spray. 
 
 Each night they laid them down to rest 
 Where the fern grew thick and high ; 
 
 When silver stars came shining out 
 And spangled o'er the sky. 
 
 Oh ! was not their's a pleasant life, 
 
 All in the greenwood fair, 
 Ah ! well for them if both had been 
 content to tarry there. 
 
152 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 But the lady from the castle 
 Strayed in those woods one day, 
 
 And there she saw those little fawns 
 Among the leaves at play. 
 
 Then said she, as she passed them by : 
 " Now were those fair fawns mine, 
 
 With roses, and with lilies, 
 Their necks I would entwine. 
 
 " And I would screen them from the heat, 
 
 And shield them from the cold, 
 And they should drink the sweetest milk 
 
 From out a cup of gold." 
 
 " Ah! heard'st thou what that lady said? 
 
 Exclaimed one fawn with pride, 
 Oh ! brother, let us go straightway 
 
 To the castle, by her side. 
 
 "And have our necks all wreathed so fine, 
 
 And drink from cup of gold ; 
 And live in her stately castle, 
 
 That looks so grand and old." 
 
 " And would'st thou leave our pleasant home, 
 
 And leave our gentle mother, 
 To dwell with strangers cold and proud !" 
 
 Replied his wond'ring brother. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 153 
 
 " Yes, truly, on a visit 
 
 To the castle I would go :" 
 His brother thought he spoke in jest, 
 
 But alas ! it was not so. 
 
 Tor secretly and silently, 
 
 He left his home that day, 
 And by the lady he was led 
 
 To the castle, far away. 
 
 Up to the castle stately, 
 
 Under the gateway tall, 
 The lady led the little fawn 
 
 Into the marble hall. 
 
 His brother sought him sorrowing, 
 
 His mother wept him sore ; 
 Eut he shall return to the greenwood 
 
 Never, oh ! never more. 
 
 The summer days were lengthening, 
 
 The sun more brightly shone ; 
 But sad it was in the greenwood 
 
 For his brother all alone. 
 
 And ever he hoped to see him 
 
 In some old familiar nook; 
 But he met him not on the breezy down 
 
 Or by the sheltered brook. 
 
 One morning, with his mother 
 
 He wandered on the hill, 
 Looking hither, looking thither, 
 
 Tor his little playmate still. 
 
154 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 To the castle lawn beneath them 
 They turned their wistful eyes, 
 
 And there once more the missing one 
 They saw with glad surprise. 
 
 A gay and noble company 
 
 Were thronging him about ; 
 And they saw the roses shining 
 
 Around his slender throat. 
 
 But they also saw the silken cord 
 
 That held him captive there, 
 And then they knew how dearly won 
 
 Were all those roses fair. 
 
 No pride nor triumph in his mien, 
 
 But tremblingly he stood, 
 Turning his mournful eyes towards 
 
 The distant waving wood. 
 
 That night the Fawn was lying down 
 
 By his mother's side alone, 
 When through the woods he seemed to hear 
 
 A low and stifled moan. 
 
 Oh ! was it but a night-bird's wail, 
 
 Or wind complaining by ? 
 He thought it was his brother's voice, 
 
 And rose up at the cry. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEKSE. 155 
 
 The moonlight o'er the forest paths 
 Was streaming white and broad; 
 
 So swiftly did he speed along, 
 His feet scarce touched the sward. 
 
 Away ! away ! each brush and brake 
 
 With eager haste he past. 
 Oh ! might he reach, though far away, 
 
 The castle park at last ! 
 
 At length, beneath its palings high 
 
 He staid his weary feet ; 
 Ah ! where may be his brother dear 
 
 He fain once more would greet? 
 
 There, stretched upon the dewy grass 
 
 Before him, now he lies; 
 He cannot move he scarce can speak ; 
 
 He hears his dying sighs ! 
 
 Grown weary of his captive thrall, 
 
 He broke his silken chain, 
 And thought to see his wild wood haunts, 
 
 And all his friends, again. 
 
 But ah ! he was a captive still 
 
 Before him lay a wall 
 Where'er he went, on every side, 
 
 He saw the palings tall. 
 
156 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 To clear them long he tried in vain; 
 
 At last, with desp'rate bound, 
 The fatal barrier he past, 
 
 And fell upon the ground 
 
 Fell bleeding on the other side, 
 
 And there he gasping lay, 
 His life blood flowing on the grass 
 
 So fast so fast away. 
 
 " Farewell, farewell, sweet brother mine ! " 
 
 He cried in accents low; 
 "Forgive me that I caused you grief: 
 
 I do repent me now! 
 
 "And pray my mother to forgive 
 
 My vanity and pride ; 
 I would that I were with her still 
 
 Had never left her side ! 
 
 "Farewell," he murmur' d fainter still, 
 Chok'd by the crimson tide. 
 
 A minute more, and that fair Fawn 
 Lay dead upon his side ; 
 
 And the roses and the lilies 
 
 They all with blood were dyed. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 157 
 
 PLOWEES OF THE OCEAN. 
 
 Call us not weeds we are flow'rs of the sea 
 Tor lovely and bright and gay-tinted are we ; 
 Our blush is as deep as the rose of thy bowers. 
 
 Then call us not weeds we are ocean's gay flowers. 
 
 Not nursed like the plants of a summer parterre, 
 Where gales are but sighs of an evening air ; 
 Oar exquisite, fragile, and delicate forms 
 Are nursed by the ocean, and rocked by the storms. 
 
 THE SNOW-DROP'S COMPLAINT. 
 
 I asked it of the ice-bound earth, 
 
 Why now am I to grow ; 
 And why must still my drooping head 
 
 Be wreathed about with snow ? 
 
 I asked it of the bitter east, 
 Why am I nipped with frost ? 
 
 I asked it of the blustering north, 
 Why am I tempest-tossed? 
 
 I asked it of the distant sun, 
 To give me cheering beam, 
 
 And not to ever mock me thus, 
 With his cold watery gleam. 
 
158 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 And why, like the sweet summer flower, 
 
 Am I not wet with dew? 
 And I asked it of the skies above, 
 
 Where was their cloudless blue? 
 
 I questioned thus, the earth and sun; 
 
 I questioned thus the sky; 
 I questioned thus the blustering winds; 
 
 And this was their reply: 
 
 "If among Spring's lovely flowers 
 
 Thy little bud had blown, 
 None would have marked thy pallid cup, 
 
 Thy name had not been known. 
 
 'Tis well for thee the blast has howled, 
 The sun has never smiled; 
 
 Tor thou art cherished, nursed, and loved, 
 But as rough Winter's child." 
 
 SONG TO THE BEE. 
 
 My dear little Bee, what a way you have flown; 
 You've past a wide stream to reach this thymy down, 
 
 To gain your sweet food, 
 
 O'er heath and o'er flood. 
 How far, my poor Bee, you are driven to roam ; 
 
 Yet humming along, 
 
 All joy is your song, 
 And you care not, though weary the way to your home. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 159 
 
 But, oh, wonder ! how find you the path to your cell ? 
 Do you live north, or south, or east, can you tell ? 
 
 So distant your flight, 
 
 What guide leads you right ? 
 Does memory mark every change in the scene P 
 
 Are the flowers your clue, 
 
 That your path is so true ? 
 Did you know that you flew from the rose to the bean ? 
 
 THE HEARTSEASE. 
 
 Pansy, Fll call thee mine own sweet flower ; 
 
 Yes, thou my flower shall be, 
 And thou shalt lay ever upon my heart, 
 
 And I will sing of thee. 
 
 I'll place thee in my bower gay, 
 
 And decorate my home ; 
 Then I'll not sigh for the stately hall, 
 
 Nor dream of the gilded dome. 
 
 I'll gather thy buds, and twine my hair, 
 
 Binding my brow with them ; 
 Then I'll not change my chaplet fair, 
 
 Tor the queenly diadem. 
 
 And I would have thee bestrew my path, 
 
 My garden, and my bower ; 
 And I'll tend thee still in the wintry blast, 
 
 As in the sunny hour. 
 
160 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 So seasons may change, and summers wane, 
 
 But thou shalt ever please ; 
 Tes, still I will love thee, iny shining flower, 
 
 Por thy pretty name Heartsease. 
 
 And thou shalt be my sage, 
 
 And make me think of gay flowers ; 
 
 And 0, 1 will ask in all I do, 
 Heartsease for future hours ? 
 
 THE ROBIN RELEASED FROM ITS CAGE. 
 
 "Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin ; 
 Whose were the tender hands 
 Loosened thy prison bands, 
 
 My pretty Robin ? 
 
 Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin; 
 The summer is past and gone, 
 Yet autumn's suns are warm, 
 
 My pretty Robin. 
 
 Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin ; 
 Forget in thy present bliss, 
 The hours of thy loneliness, 
 
 My pretty Robin. 
 
TALES AND EABLES IN VERSE. 161 
 
 Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin; 
 All is so pleasant now 
 Even the leafless bough 
 
 My pretty Robin. 
 
 Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin ; 
 Chirp gay, and joyous sing- 
 Think of another spring, 
 
 My pretty Robin. 
 
 Welcome back to thy woods again, 
 
 My pretty Robin ; 
 Peast on the berries red, 
 Hanging above thy head, 
 
 My pretty Robin, 
 
 THE EGGAR MOTH. 
 
 My pretty Eggar fly, 
 My snowdrop of a Moth, 
 Why in this bitter month, 
 Why dost thou venture forth? 
 
162 TALES AND FABLES IN VEESE. 
 
 This is no gentle air, 
 But breath of the Northern breeze, 
 No rose for thee blooms fair, 
 No Summer hum of bees. 
 
 The feathered muffled fowl, 
 Keeps snugly in his home; 
 Then why my tender Moth 
 Why doom'd art thou to roam? 
 How canst thou dare to fly 
 With that silver silken wing? 
 0, thou must surely die 
 Thou weak and fragile thing. 
 
 No, thou art still supported, 
 Even in this dark hour, 
 None of thy race shall perish 
 Upheld by mighty power; 
 What care for thee is taken, 
 What infinite concern, 
 No thou art not forsaken, 
 Though but a feeble worm. 
 
 [The small Eggar Moth (Eriogaster lanestris), doomed to a 
 regular appearance in the winged state at the termination of 
 tho cold ungcnial month of February. That it may not become 
 extinct, Nature reserves a small portion of it annually in the 
 pupa state until the following February, sometimes even until 
 the third recurrence of that frigid month, securing by these 
 unusual means the safety and perpetuation of the Eggar Moth. 
 British Cyclopedia of Natural History.} 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 163 
 
 THE BALSAM TREE. 
 
 You know the tale of the Spoiler he 
 Who tore a branch from the Balsam-tree, 
 And as the oderous branch he broke 
 He deeply pierced his breast with the stroke. 
 
 Then wept the tree, and the traveller found 
 
 He was healed by her tears of the smarting wound : 
 
 This fable old of the Eastern tree, 
 
 Christian heart, will come home to thee. 
 
 Tor when thou see'st thy bitter foe 
 Drinking deeply the cup of woe ; 
 Pity and sweetest charity, 
 Will drop their balm as the Eastern tree : 
 And when love sheds its gentle tear, 
 'Tis a healing balm on a heart of care. 
 
 T. ft 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE GLOW-WORM. 
 
 Insect of the brilliant light! 
 Beauty of a summer's night ! 
 Splendour of the eves of June ! 
 How are your glories faded soon P 
 
 Worm, how dark do you appear I 
 Now no living fire you bear ; 
 Lately, with the evening star, 
 You threw your glimmering ray afar. 
 
 Your green lamp did fairies trim, 
 That should clouds the bright moon dim, 
 Their wonted paths they still may tread, 
 Nor any harm of night should dread. 
 
 They your light no more require, 
 So have quenched the useless fire ; 
 Nothing lovely in your form ; 
 Now, you're but a dismal worm. 
 
 No more you draw the wanderer's gaze, 
 No object now of poet's lays ; 
 Diamond of night, you're lustre's gone ; 
 Star of the earth, your rays are shorn. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 165 
 
 So human beauty fades away, 
 The lustre of a summer's day ; 
 Eor corruption is our mother, 
 And the earth-worm is our brother. 
 Oh ! mortals, come, a lesson learn 
 A lesson from your brother worm. 
 
 THE SAILOE BOY TO THE SWALLOW. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, poor stranger, 
 With your faint, wearied wing ! 
 
 Oh, are you from England? 
 What news do you bring ? 
 
 Tell me, my worn one, 
 Prom whence do you come ? 
 
 I will dream I will dream ; 
 Your home is my home. 
 
 In the peace of our cottage 
 
 You blessedly dwell ; 
 'Neath my roof you have nestled, 
 
 And built your clay cell. 
 
 Is your home in our porch, 
 
 Hid in leaves of the vine, 
 Or love you the chimney 
 
 Overtopt by the pine ? 
 
166 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Poor, foolish swallow, 
 
 How can you roam ? 
 I almost feel certain 
 
 Your home's not my home. 
 
 For how could you fly, then, 
 
 A homestead so blest? 
 How seek other lands 
 
 As the place of your rest P 
 
 Ah! poor, foolish bird, 
 
 Thou imagest's clear 
 What to the angels 
 
 Vain man must appear. 
 
 , They know the full pleasures 
 
 Of our fair home above, 
 And pity our wand'rings 
 Erom a Heaven of love. 
 
 [Swallows are often met with at sea perishing in an ex- 
 hausted condition oil the rigging and decks of ships.] 
 
 THE TWELVE MONTHS. 
 
 In each month of the pleasant year 
 We find there's something gay, 
 
 Some pretty thing to look upon, 
 Or help us in our play. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 167 
 
 January's freezing cold ! 
 
 But we love ice and snow, 
 And the bright berries, scarlet red 
 
 That on the Hollys grow. 
 
 In February snowdrops peep, 
 
 We say the flower's awake ; 
 Then, with the bloom of the willow trees 
 
 What pretty toys we make. 
 
 In March we watch the cawing rooks, 
 
 And the small busy bird 
 Building the nest we search to find, 
 
 But never will disturb. 
 
 In April all's becoming green, 
 We almost love its showers ; 
 
 For then it is the children say 
 " J Tis raining down May flowers." 
 
 Oh ! May, it is our garland month, 
 
 And butterflies we see ; 
 We chase them over " brake and briar," 
 
 Or watch the humming bee. 
 
 In June it is the woods are thick, 
 
 The leafy bower is made, 
 Where from the sun we hide ourselves ; 
 
 Delighting in the shade. 
 
168 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 And July is the month of fruits 
 Then hang the currants red ; 
 
 And gooseberries and raspberries 
 Around us all are spread. 
 
 August is the month of corn, 
 
 Low bends the yellow ear, 
 And the hot reaper cuts it down 
 
 And stores it for the year. 
 
 September, in the pleasant woods, 
 Then the brown nuts we eat : 
 
 And the ripe apples gather'd in, 
 Our own nice Christmas treat. 
 
 October is the month that brings 
 The poor birds' winter food ; 
 
 The hips and haws, on briars and thorns, 
 And blackberries, so good. 
 
 Dark, dark November, what have you 
 
 That we can think is gay ? 
 We may heap up your rustling leaves, 
 
 And call them " stacks of hay." 
 
 December is the blessed month 
 
 Of love and charity : 
 Then, clothes and food we give the poor 
 
 Joyous it is to see. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 169 
 
 So through the happy, happy year 
 
 Each little child may say : 
 w If I love God and holy things 
 
 I'm happy every day." 
 
 " But if I give my heart to sin, 
 
 Dully every day will be ; 
 I shall see nothing fair and bright 
 
 All will be sad to me." 
 
 THE PRIMROSE. 
 
 Pale Primrose, thou shalt be 
 Type of humility ; 
 Tor thou art childhood's flower, 
 Decking his early bower ; 
 And ever art thou found 
 In his gay posy bound. 
 Yes, the boy loves thee well, 
 Thee and the azure bell. 
 He will his home forsake, 
 To roam the tangled brake, 
 With the quick, searching eye, 
 Thy first bloom to descry. 
 Then with wild mirth and shout, 
 Calling the echoes out, 
 He twines thy tender stem, 
 To form his diadem. 
 Pale flower, thou dost prove 
 Childhood's first love ; 
 And therefore shalt thou be 
 Type t>f humility. 
 
170 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 THE ECHO. 
 
 Listen here's a fairy sound 
 Issues from the hollow ground: 
 'Tis Echo's voice ; come, shall we try 
 To our questions what reply? 
 
 Where's thy dwelling-place so fair P 
 Ah! the Echo answers Air. 
 
 Echo, dost thou tell truth never? 
 Hark! the Echo answers Ever. 
 
 Are old men or youth most sageP 
 List! the Echo answers Age. 
 
 Do we well to love our will? 
 Sapient Echo answers ///. 
 
 What does Echo recommend? 
 Then Sage Echo answers Mend. 
 
 Echo, which babbles, I or thou? 
 Then loud the mocker answers Thou. 
 
 Oh, Echo, once more silence keep ; 
 Would I'd not waked thee from thy sleep ! 
 
The Young Girl and the Nightingale. 
 
TALES AND TABLES LN VERSE. 171 
 
 THE YOUNG GIRL AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 A Nightingale, amid the leafy green, 
 Warbled her song around, herself unseen. 
 My Rose was wandering at that twilight hour, 
 And as her footsteps loiter'd near the tower, 
 She listened stopt, all eager ear and eye 
 Ne'er had she heard such wondrous minstrelsy ; 
 And then the young girl, as she listened, sighed, 
 And said : " Sweet bird, wherefore from me hide? 
 Thou must be beautiful, thy song's so sweet. 
 Why art thou hidden in thy close retreat? 
 I think thou hast the small wren's golden crest, 
 And red as my sweet robin's is thy breast. 
 Oh ! wherefore art thou hidden from my sight ? 
 I long to look upon thy plumage bright." 
 He started at her voice, and swift uprose ; 
 What tints so beautiful did he disclose I 
 Alas ! when full he was exposed to view, 
 She saw a plain brown bird of one dull hue. 
 Will you, my child, from this experience know, 
 Worth is not always fair in outward show ? 
 
172 TALES AND FABLES IN YEESB. 
 
 THE GOSSAMER BOAT. 
 
 " I would be a fairy on light winds borne, 
 To fly from the earth with the peep of dawn; 
 Far away on the sunbeams' path to float 
 Merrily up in a gossamer boat. 
 
 cc I would spread my sails to the singing breeze ; 
 I would swiftly mount o'er the tall elm trees, 
 Leave butterflies dancing round flow'rs bright, 
 And pass the lark in its upward flight. 
 
 " Away we would speed through the summer air, 
 So happy and gay, without thought or care ; 
 Away to the East, where the cloud-lands lie, 
 All purple and gold, in the morning sky. 
 
 " Then back to the earth would I gently glide, 
 And rest by a murmuring river's side ; 
 Or under the leaves of a white moss-rose 
 So sweetly and softly would I repose, 
 
 " Till the zephyr's breath, as it passes by, 
 Wafts us once more to the clear blue sky ; 
 Or over the fields where the cowslips grow, 
 Where daffodils, daises, and kingcups blow. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 173 
 
 " Oh, mother, how pleasant the long summer's day, 
 To pass the bright hours in sunshine and play; 
 And when the moon rises, sink gently to sleep, 
 Lulled sweetly by waters in lily-bell deep." 
 
 "To know, then, all joy, is the wish of thy song : 
 Thy dream, fair child, will vanish ere long. 
 Not in sunbeams of purple and gold canst thou float, 
 ]?or soon will be rent thy gossamer boat. 
 
 " The leaves of thy rose will be scattered around 
 The stem of thy lily will bend to the ground ; 
 But look up, my loved one, for there is a joy 
 Which the evils of life cannot reach or destroy. 
 
 " Look only with hope to a heaven of love, 
 And truth is a joy thy bosom will prove ; 
 Pixt be thy heart where the rich treasure lies, 
 And this earth will give peace as of Paradise." 
 
 THE GIRL IN THE DISTANT CITY. 
 
 TO A WANDERING BIRD. 
 
 Wild bird, I see thee flying by, 
 
 Swift as a glancing star. 
 Ah ! dost thou come from my dear home 
 
 My own loved home afar ? 
 
174 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 That home that I shall never see ; 
 That home, where I may never be P 
 
 Oh ! wilt thou, in thy wanderings, 
 
 Ere reach my garden glade, 
 Where stands the old-remembered house, 
 
 In ivy green arrayed ? 
 Oh ! fly, sweet bird, and to me bear 
 
 Some token of our garden fair. 
 
 The roses bright, by day and night, 
 
 Are blooming, sweetly all ; 
 There is a rose I love, that grows 
 
 Eeside the maple tall. 
 I would you'd haste, and pluck for me 
 One blossom from, that white rose-tree. 
 
 One blossom, and a vine leaf bring, 
 That round my summer bower 
 
 Entwines its circling tendrils with 
 The scented woodbine flower. 
 
 I loved it, Oh ! I loved it well, 
 
 That bower in the lonely delL 
 
 For there a stately forest tree 
 Grows upward, strong and high ; 
 
 And nightingales sing out at eve, 
 Beneath the starlit sky : 
 
The Girl to a Wandering Bird. P. 175. 
 
 Woodmouse's Home. 
 
TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 175 
 
 And there would I, light hearted, stray, 
 If I had wings to fly away. 
 
 I may not follow thy glad flight, 
 
 To where that tall tree grows, 
 Or where the wild-wood torrent pours, 
 
 Or where my flower blows. 
 Sweet bird, I maj not follow thee, 
 Por I am caged and thou sit free. 
 
 THE WOODMOUSE'S HOME. 
 
 Beneath a spreading oak tree's bough 
 A woodmouse made its nest ; 
 
 He chose amid that fairy glade, 
 The spot he loved the best. 
 
 And many a forest tree waved there, 
 And many a stream gushed by, 
 
 And many a tiny flower looked up, 
 Towards the summer sky. 
 
 The wild bees, on their sunny wings, 
 Would come and wander there ; 
 
 And seemed unwillingly to leave 
 A spot, so wondrous fair. 
 
176 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 The sun was shining warm and bright 
 
 Between the rustling trees ; 
 The green leaves danced, the summer flowers 
 
 Were waving in the breeze. 
 
 A gay and happy little thing 
 That Woodmouse is, I ween, 
 
 To live in such a pleasant spot, 
 All in the forest green. 
 
 I wonld that I could live like him- 
 So joyous, wild, and free 
 
 And lead the merry life he leads, 
 Beneath the old oak tree. 
 
 "Be good, and kind, and full of love, 
 And my little girl shall see, 
 
 That she can make her father's hall, 
 Gay as the old oak tree." 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 177 
 
 THE BLIND CHILD TO HER MOTHER. 
 
 PROM THE GERMAN. 
 
 Tell me, Mother, of the stars, 
 
 And of the heavens blue ; 
 All night long I dream of them. 
 
 Mother, I dream they are like yon. 
 
 Oh! when you press me to your heart, 
 And softly breathe my name, 
 
 I feel so joyful, and I think 
 That heaven must be the same t 
 
 Tell me, Mother, of my God ; 
 
 Oh! is he not like you? 
 And will he not as soon forgive 
 
 The little faults 1 do ? 
 
 Tell me, Mother, will my God 
 Love me, a poor blind child? 
 
 And, Mother, is his love like thine, 
 So tender and so mild? 
 
178 TALES AND TABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 All! you must never leave 
 
 The poor blind child you love ; 
 
 But die with me, that you may lead 
 Your child to heaven above. 
 
 DEATH IN THE TILLAGE. 
 
 Death went adown the village in spring, 
 Where the sun makes all rejoice; 
 
 And the budding woods in the valleys ring 
 With the cuckoo's merry voice. 
 
 An old man sat by the oak-tree's shade, 
 He heard not the wild bird's song; 
 
 Nor saw the fields, where the young lambs played, 
 And the stream that gushed along. 
 
 Oh! death was to him a welcome guest; 
 
 He smiled as he felt his hand; 
 For long had he sighed for the quiet rest, 
 
 And peace of the heavenly land. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN TERSE. 179 
 
 With mirthful shouts, on the village green, 
 
 Did the little children play; 
 The miller's wife by her door was seen, 
 
 In her arms her first-born lay. 
 
 The mother looked down with smiles of joy 
 
 On her loved one's laughing face : 
 But death snatched away the infant boy 
 
 Prom her close and warm embrace. 
 
 Death came again in the summer-tide, 
 
 And up the village he went, 
 When roses were blooming side by side, 
 
 And in at the casement bent. 
 
 The sexton's son from his couch looked out 
 
 On the warm and sunny day ; 
 He heard the haymakers' merry shout, 
 
 In the meadows far away. 
 
 His brothers all, with the morning light, 
 
 To their daily work had gone ; 
 But, ere they returned again at night, 
 
 Death bore off the sickly one. 
 
 Death came again in the autumn time, 
 
 Across the village he hied; 
 The blacksmith tall, in his manhood's prime, 
 
 Was standing his forge beside. 
 
 M 2 
 
180 TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 
 
 He wielded his hammer with sinews strong, 
 Well sounded the anvil's clang; 
 
 But suddenly ceased its noisy song, 
 As Death on the strong man sprang. 
 
 Death came once more on a winter's day, 
 
 Around the village he hied; 
 To the curate's home he bent his way, 
 
 And entered the porch so wide. 
 
 There, like a lily drooping and pale, 
 
 So gentle and angel mild, 
 As a flower cut by the bitter gale, 
 
 Lay the good old pastor's child. 
 
 The snow lay cold on the ground that day, 
 The tempest was drawing near ; 
 
 When Death bore gently his' prize away, 
 The last which he took that year. 
 
 THE WHITE SHIP. 
 
 A gallant ship was on the sea, 
 A noble freight it bore, 
 
 A royal train from Normandy, 
 Bound for the English shore. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 181 
 
 The high and princely born were there, 
 
 A gay and glitt'ring band, 
 Escorting England's youthful heir 
 
 Towards his native land. 
 
 A young and thoughtless company 
 Composed that gallant throng; 
 
 And nought was heard but minstrelsy, 
 With laughter and with song. 
 
 The sun's rays on the gilded prow 
 And many a rare gem glance; 
 
 On white plumes waving too and fro 
 On gilded helm, and lance. 
 
 And silken banners to the gale 
 
 Embroidery rich unfold, 
 The royal arms of England wrought 
 
 In purple and in gold. 
 
 Ah ! little recked the young hearts ill ere, 
 
 Now mad with revelry: 
 Ah ! little recked the gay, the proud, 
 
 Their fearful destiny. 
 
 The crested waves danced all in gbe 
 
 Beneath the sunbeam's ray, 
 And coursed each other merrily, 
 
 Like children at their play. 
 
182 TALES AND FABLES IK VERSE. 
 
 And shoals of fish of glorious hue 
 
 Are sporting gaily there ; 
 The white birds on their silver wing 
 
 Moat through the summer air. 
 
 "Put out your sweeps, and crowd each sail/' 
 
 The princely William cried, 
 te And swift before the hastening gale 
 
 So gallantly we'll ride." 
 
 " Fit z- Stephen prove your goodly bark 
 
 The fleetest on the sea; 
 You boast the White Ship skims the wave 
 
 Like the deer across the lea." 
 
 Fitz-Stephen heard the high command, 
 
 A moment scarce had fled, 
 When bending 'neath the press of sail 
 
 The White Ship hast'iiing sped. 
 
 On swift she bounded o'er the wave 
 
 Like meteor through the sky ; 
 Or rising from the trackless deep 
 
 A spirit hurrying by. 
 
 And still the revelry went on 
 
 Amongst the giddy crew ; 
 The laugh grew louder as like light 
 
 The White Ship onward flew. 
 
TALES AND FABLES IN VERSE. 183 
 
 Awake, Fitz-Stephen, e'er too late, 
 
 Arouse thee from thy sleep : 
 See you, yon dark rock like a speck 
 
 Rising from out the deep. 
 
 Too late, too late, with frightful speed 
 
 The White Ship skims the sea : 
 Too late, too late, the thoughtless ones 
 
 Their fearful danger see. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 The sun smiles on the crested wave 
 
 The billows bound or free ; 
 But where's that light and gallant train 
 
 That swept across the sea. 
 
 The shoals of fish they still sport there, 
 
 The white-winged birds still fly; 
 But where's the gay and mirthful crew 
 
 And sounds of revelry ? 
 
 Their mirth is hushed, the young, the proud, 
 
 They sleep beneath the wave : 
 The wild winds sing a requiem 
 
 Above their deep, deep grave. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 CAMDEN PRESS, LOJSDON. 
 
JUVENILE BOOKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 JAMES HOGG & SONS, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 The Rose-bud Stories: 
 
 A New and attractive Series of Juvenile Books, each volume 
 Illustrated with coloured Engravings. Sixteen varieties, uni- 
 form in size and style, Is. 6d. each. Every volume contains one 
 or more Tales complete, is strongly bound in cloth boards, with 
 Four coloured Engraving* on Wood, designed and engraved 
 by Dalziel Brothers, and 124 pages of clear, bold letter-press, 
 printed upon stout paper. 
 
 The Tales are written by various Authors, most of them ex- 
 pressly for the Series, and for cheapness, attractiveness, and 
 sterling interest, they present, perhaps, one of the most 
 pleasing and useful collections of Stories in modern Juvenile 
 Literature. 
 
 As the fresh rose-bud needs the silvery ihower, 
 The golden sun-chine, and the pearly dew, 
 The joyous day, with all its changes new, 
 
 Ere it can bloom into the perfect flower} 
 
 So with the human rose-bud; from sweet airs 
 Of heaven will fragrant purity be caught, 
 And influences benign of tender thought 
 
 Inform the soul, like angels, unawares. 
 
 MARY Howitt. 
 
 Ally and her School-fellow : 
 
 A Tale for the Young. By Miss M. BETHAM-EDWARPS, 
 Author of " Holidays among the Mountains," " Charlie and 
 Ernest," &c. With Four coloured Pictures. Royal ISmo. 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is.Gd. 
 
JUVENILE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THE ROSE-BUD STORIES continued. 
 
 Loyal Charlie Bentliam. 
 
 By Mrs. WEBB, Author of " The Beloved Disciple,'* " Naomi,** 
 " Idaline," &c. And THE CHILDREN'S ISLAND : A True 
 Story. Edited by L. NUGENT. With Four coloured Pictures. 
 Royal 18mo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Simple Stories for Children. 
 
 By MARY E MILLS. With four Coloured Pictures. Royal 
 ISmo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 A Child's First Book about Birds. 
 
 By a COUNTRY CLERGYMAN. With Four coloured Pictures. 
 Royal 18mo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Prince Arthur ; 
 
 or, The Four Trials. By CATHERINE MARY STIRLING-. And 
 TALES BY THE FLOWERS. By CAROLINE B. TEMPLER. 
 With Four coloured Piciures. Royal ISmo, cloth lettered, 
 ornamental side, Is. fid. 
 
 The Story of Henrietta and the Ayah ; 
 
 or, Do Not Trust to Appearances. And MY LITTLE 
 SCHOOL-FELLOW; or, One Good Turn deserves Another. 
 By Madame DE CHATELAIN. With Four coloured Pictures. 
 Royal 18mo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Stories from English History. 
 
 For Young Children. Edited by the Rev. ROBERT HENNIKER, 
 M. A., Incumbent of South Charlton, Northumberland. With 
 Four coloured Pictures. Royal 18mo. cloth lettered, orna- 
 mental side. Is. 6d. 
 
 Twelve Links of the Golden Chain. 
 
 By ANNA J. BUCKLAND. With Four coloured Pictures. 
 Royal 18 mo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Easy Talks for Little Folks. 
 
 By the Author of "A Visit to the Seaside," " Cousin Eliza- 
 beth," " Little Crumbs," &c. And MAY-DAY ; or, Anecdotes 
 of Miss Lydia Lively. Edited by L. NUGENT. With Four 
 coloured Pictures. Royal 18mo. cloth lettered, ornamental 
 side, Is. 6d. 
 
JAMES HOGG & SONS, LONDON. 
 
 THE ROSE-BUD STORIES continued. 
 
 Susan and the Doll ; 
 
 or, Do Not be Covetous. And THE LITTLE ORPHAN'S 
 HISTORY; or, Everything for the Best. By CAEOLINE 
 LEICESTER. With Four coloured Pictures. Royal ISmo. 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Juvenile Tales for Juvenile Readers. 
 
 By CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH. With Four coloured Pictures. 
 Royal 18rno. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 The Life of Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 In Short Words. By SARAH CROMPTOX, Author of " A plan 
 to Combine Education with Instruction," " Life of Columbus/ 
 "Life of Luther," in Short Words, &c. With Four coloured 
 Pictures. Royal ISmo. cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 A Winter's Wreath of Illustrative Tales. 
 
 Edited by Lady CHARLOTTE LAW. And SYMPATHY : A 
 Tale. By E. A. M. With Four coloured Pictures. Royal ISmo 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Little Paul and his Moss-wreaths ; 
 
 or, The King and the Boy who kept his Word. 
 VON LAGERSTROM. Together with the STORY OF LITTLE 
 GEORGE BELL. With Four coloured Pictures. Royal ISmo. 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 Six Short Stories for Short People. 
 
 By the Rev. F. W. B. BOUVERIE, Author of "Life and its 
 Lessons," &c. With Four coloured Pictures. Royal ISmo. 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
 The Captive Sky-lark; 
 
 or, Do as You AVould be Done by : A Tale. By Madame BE 
 CHATELAIN. With Four coloured Pictures, Royal 18ino. 
 cloth lettered, ornamental side, Is. 6d. 
 
JUVENILE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 MARY HOWITT'S THREE TREASURIES. 
 
 The Golden Casket. 
 
 A Treasury of Tales for Young People. Edited by Mary 
 Howitt. \Vith Illustrations by John Palmer, printed on 
 Toned Paper. 
 Small crown 8vo, elegantly bound in cloth, gilt edges, 5s. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Elchester College Boys. By Mrs. Wood, Author of "Red 
 
 Court Fa m," '* Daiu-sburv House," etc. 
 The Delft Jug. By Eliza Meteyard (Silverpen). 
 
 he Boy and the Man. From the German of Christopher von 
 
 Schmidt 
 
 William and his Teacher. By Mrs. S. C. Hall 
 The Story of Luke Barnieott. By William Howitt 
 The Castle East of the Sun and West of the World. A Story 
 
 from the Old Danish 
 
 My First Cruise. By W. H. G. Kingston 
 The Holidays at Barenburg Castle. By Ottilie Wildermuth 
 Some Passages from the Child- Lite of Lucy Meredyth. By the 
 
 Author or " An Art Student in Munich " 
 The Touching and Marvellous Adventures of Prince Hempseed 
 
 and his Young Sister. From the French of L6on Gozlan. 
 
 The Old Favourites. 
 
 A Treasury of Tales for Young People. Edited and Written 
 
 by Mary Howitt. With Illustrations by Zwecker, printed 
 
 on Toned Paper. 
 
 Small crown Svo, elegantly bound in cloth, gilt edges, 5s. 
 The YO! .me contains an Original Talo, entitled, "Rockbourne 
 Hall," introducing the Young Folks' Readings, and their Con- 
 versations about Old Favourite Talcs. The course of the Narra- 
 tive embraces many Stories by various Standard Authors, given 
 in a carefully Revised and sometimes Popularised form. 
 
 A Treasury of New Favourite Tales for 
 
 Young People. Edited and Written by Mary Howitt. With 
 
 Illustrations by Colemaii and Palmer, printed on Toned 
 
 Paper. 
 
 Small crown 8vo, elegantly bound in cloth, gilt edges, 5s. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Lords of Wyvon. By MARY HOWITT 
 
 Jonas on a Farm. By Jacob Abbott 
 
 The Gray African Parrot. By r tarry Gringo 
 
 The Travelling Tinman. By Miss Leslie 
 
 Red-htad* d Andy. By Fanny Fern 
 
 My Little Lizzie. By Miss GILLIES 
 
 The Secret Society. By MRS. DE 
 
 The Rainy Day. By Fanny Fern 
 
 The Chimsera. By Nathanial Hawthorne 
 
 Making Something. By Mrs. Child 
 
 The Boat Club. By Oliver Optic 
 
 The Little Peacemaker. By MABY HOWITT, 
 
JAMES HOGG & SONS, LONDON. 
 
 The Leighs : or, The Discipline of Daily 
 
 Life. BY Miss PALMER. With Illustrations by Walter 
 Ray Woods, printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, 
 cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Long Holidays;' or, Learning without 
 
 Lessons. By H. A. FORD. With Illustrations by C. A. 
 Doyle, printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth 
 extra, 3s. Gel. 
 
 Aunt Agnes ; or, The Why and Where- 
 fore of Life : An Autobiography. With Illustrations, printed 
 on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Wave and the Battle Field. 
 
 By MRS. STEWART, Author of " Athelino ; or, The Castle by 
 the sea," " Bradmere Pool." &c. With Illustrations by 
 Henry Saunderson, printed on toned paper. Small crown 
 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Busy Hives around Us : 
 
 A Variety of Trips and Visits to the Mine, the Workshop, 
 and the Factory; with Popular Notes on Materials, 
 Processes, and Machines. With Illustrations by Harvey, 
 &c., printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Printer Boy ; 
 
 or, How Benjamin Franklin made his Mark: An Example 
 for Youth. Ky WILLIAM M. TH AYE R. With Illustrations 
 by Julian Portch, the i- rontispiece and Vignette coloured. 
 Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Men who have Risen : 
 
 A Book for Boys. With Illustrations, printed on toned 
 paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Women of Worth : 
 
 A Book for Girls. With Illustrations, printed on toned 
 paper. Saiall crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Friendly Hands and Kindly Words ; 
 
 Stories Illustrative of the Law of Kindness, the Power of 
 Perseverance, and the Advantage of Little Helps. With 
 Illustrations, printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, 
 cloth extra, 3-. 6d. 
 
 Roses and Thorns ; 
 
 or, Five Tales of the Start in Life. With Illustrations, 
 printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 
 3s. 6d. 
 
JUVENILE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 Pictures of Heroes, 
 
 And Lossons from thi ir Lives. With Illustrations, printed 
 on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Popular Preachers of the Ancient 
 
 Church, their Lives, their Manner, and their "Work. By 
 the Rev. WiLLiAra: WILSON, MA. With Illustrations by 
 Hnnry Anelay, printed on toned paper. Small crown Svo, 
 cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Book of Children's Hymns and 
 
 Rhymes. Collected by the DAUGHTER of a CLERGYMAN. 
 Illustrated with numerous Engravings on Wood. Small 
 crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 This is a comprehensive collection of what may be called the 
 "Children's Favourites." 
 
 Todd's Lectures to Children ; 
 
 A Complete Edition of the First and Second Series, with a 
 Memoir of the Author, from Authentic Sources, and Twelve 
 full -page Illustrations, printed on toned paper. Small 
 crown Svo, cloth extra, 8s. 6d. 
 
 The Angel of the Iceberg and other 
 
 Stories and Parables, Illustrating Great Moral Truths. 
 Designed chiefly for the Young. To which is added TRUTH 
 MADE SIMPLE: A System of Theology for Children. 
 "With Twelve Illustrations by R. Shervvin, printed on toned 
 paper. Small crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Pilgrim in the Holy Land ; 
 
 or, Palestine, Past and Present". By the Rev. HENE.Y S. 
 OSBOENE, A.M. With Twelve Illustrations of various 
 Objects of Interest in the Holy Land, printed on toned 
 paper. Small crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress. 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN. A Complete Edition, presenting a clear 
 handsome Text, with Twelve choice Illustrations by C. A. 
 Doyle, printed on toned paper. Small crown Svo, cloth 
 extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Hints on the Culture of Character. 
 
 Small crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Hon. and Right Rev. the BISHOP of DUEHAM. 
 Rev. THOMAS DALE, M.A. 
 Rev. HEXBY MELVILLE, B.D. 
 Rev. GEORGE CROLY, LL.D. 
 
 With a Variety of Passages selected from the Writings of Emi- 
 nent Divines, chiefly those of the present day. 
 
JAMES HOGG AND SONS, LONDON. 
 
 Favourite Passages in Modern Christian 
 
 Biography. With a Group of Portraits. Small crown 8vo, 
 cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Small Beginnings ; 
 
 or, The Way to Get on. With Illustrations, printed on 
 toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6J. 
 
 A Handy Book of Medical Information 
 
 and Advice: containing a brief Account of the Nature and 
 Treatment of Common Diseases; also Hints to be followed 
 in Emergencies ; with Suggestions as to the Management 
 of the Sick Room, and the Preservation of Health ; and an 
 Appendix, in which will be found a List of the Medicines 
 referred to in the Work, with their proper Doses and 
 Modes of Administration. By a PHYSICIAN. Small crown 
 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Habits of Good Society : 
 
 A Hand-book of Etiquette for Ladies and Gentlemen ; with 
 Thoughts, Hints, and Anecdotes concerning Social Obser- 
 vances, Nice Points of Taste and Good Manners, and the 
 Art of making One's-self agreeable. The whole interspersed 
 with Humourous Illustrations of Social Predicaments, 
 Remarks on the History and Changes of Fashion, and the 
 Changes of English and Continental Etiquette. With a 
 Frontispiece. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 By OLIVEE GOLDSMITH. A complete Edition, presenting 
 a clear handsome Text, with Twelve choice full-page Illus- 
 trations, printed on toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth 
 extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Star of Hope and the Staff of Duty : 
 
 Tales of Womanly Trials and Victories. With Illustrations 
 by Julian Portch, printed on toned paper. Small crowu 
 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Noble Traits of Kingly Men ; 
 
 or, Pictures and Anecdotes of European History; with a 
 Bird's-eye View of the Grander Movements and their 
 Leaders. With Illustrations by S. A. Cloves, printed oil 
 toned paper. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Sea and her Famous Sailors : 
 
 A History of Maritime Adventure and Exploration ; with 
 Incidents in the Lives of Distinguished Naval Heroes and 
 Adventurers. With Illustrations, printed on toned paper. 
 Small crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
PUBLISHED BY JAMES HOGG & SONS, LONDON. 
 
 Huglies's Graduated Reading-Lessons, 
 
 in Four Books: A Series of Advanced Reading Lessons. 
 Edited by EDWARD HUGHES, F.R.A.S., F.R.G.S., Associate of 
 the Institute of Civil Engineers, and late Head Master of the 
 Royal Naval Lower School, Greenwich. Embracing Original 
 Contributions to the various branches of Knowledge by Emi- 
 nent Writers, profusely Illustrated with 430 Engravings on 
 Wood. Each volume is sold separately, strongly bound in 
 cloth, boards, 3s. 6d., and contains about 450 pages of fcp. 8vo. 
 
 AMONGST Educational Works, this carefully edited Series of 
 Lessons (the first, and still the most elaborate, of all " Graduated*' 
 Series) occupies a conspicuous position, and deserves the atten- 
 tion of all who are interested in Tuition. The range of Subjects 
 is comprehensive; the various Articles and Treatises are by 
 Authors distinguished in Science, Literature, and Art ; the illus- 
 trations are numerous and exact; while the whole has been 
 methodised and arranged for practical use by a Teacher of 
 acknowledged eminence in his profession. 
 
 The objects have been at once "clearness of explanation, 
 general adaptation to the purposes of sound education, and the 
 closest attention to practical utility." To attain these ends, no 
 expense has been spared in securing the assistance of the most 
 competent Writers in each department, and in the free use of 
 good Illustrations to enhance the value of the text. 
 
 The progressive nature of the plan, the compact arrange- 
 ment, and the thoroughness of the information (for which the 
 names of the Authors, as given in the Work, are a sufficient 
 guarantee) combine to afford a systematic body of knowledge 
 graphic, recent, accurate, and well digested. Taken as a whole, 
 the four volumes may be termed an Elementary Cyclopaedia 
 reduced to a form convenient for daily instruction 
 
IIDDIOV fl C TUC II U I W C D C I T V C CJ I I C f\ Q IN A 
 
: UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY OF THE UN 
 
 'i&*z>*r QJ, 
 : UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY OF THE UN