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 CI 39 (1/91)

 
 THE FABLES 
 
 OF 
 
 LORIAN 
 
 •J. J. GRANDVILLE. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THK FRENCH BY 
 
 GEN. J. W. PHELP8, 
 
 . LATK MEMBER OF THE VERMONT IIISTORICJAL SOCIETY, AUTHOR OF 
 " A HISTORY OF MADAGASCAR," ETC. 
 
 Nkw York: 
 JOHN B. ALDKN, PUBLISHEE 
 
 1888. 
 
 THE UNlVERSin LIBRAW 
 wrnoiTv nr r.M;.;;:i^ilA. SAN DIE»
 
 Copyright, 18S8, 
 
 BY 
 
 THE PROVIDENT BOOK COMPANY.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 FABLE. PAGE. 
 
 I. Truth and Fable, -------- 7 
 
 II. Tlie Mirror of Truth, ------- 10 
 
 III. The Three Rivals, -------- 13 
 
 IV. The Two Travelers, ------- 14 
 
 V. The Inquisitive Cat, --------16 
 
 VI. The Carp and Her Young, ------ 18 
 
 VII. The Two Gardeners, -------- 21 
 
 VIII. The Gardener and the Aged Tree, ----- 24 
 
 IX. The Ivy and the Thyme, ------- 27 
 
 X. The Child and the Looking-Glass. ----- 28 
 
 XL The Two Cats, -------- BO 
 
 XII. The Prince and the Nightingale, ----- g^ 
 
 XIII. True Happiness, -------- 33 
 
 XIV. The Shepherd and the Nightingale. ----- 35 
 XV. The Laugliing Solitaire, - - - - - - -37 
 
 XVI. The Two Young Warriors, ------ 39 
 
 XVII. The Fox as a Preacher, - - - - - - 41 
 
 XVIII. The King of Persia, 44 
 
 XIX. The Rhinoceros and the Dromedary, - - - - - 45 
 
 XX: The Peacock, Two Goslings, and the Diver, - - - - 47 
 
 XXI. The Miser and His Son, ------- 49 
 
 XXII. The Old Mans Advice, ------- 51 
 
 XXIII. The Rope Dancer, - - 51 
 
 XXIV. The Monkey and the Ape, 54 
 
 XXV. The Linnet and ihe Turtle-Dove. ------ 56 
 
 XX VI. Hercules in Heaven. ------- 59 
 
 XXVII. The Philosopher and tlie Owl, 60 
 
 XXVIII. The Leopard and the Monkeys, 62 
 
 XXIX. The Two Bald Heads, 65 
 
 XXX. The Two Peasants, ---...- 66 
 
 XXXI. The Law-suit between Two Foxes, - - - - - 69
 
 4 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 FABLE. PAGE. 
 
 XXXII. The Viper and the Blood-Sucker, - - - . - 72 
 
 XXXIII. The Learned Collegians, ------- 74 
 
 XXXIV. The Crocodile and the Sturgeon, ----- 77 
 XXXV. The Caterpillar, .---:-.. 79 
 
 XXXVI. The Juggler, - 81 
 
 XXXVII. The Grasshopper, - - - 83 
 
 XXXVIII. The Hedgehog and the Rabbits, - . . - . 87 
 
 XXXIX. The White Elephant, ----- -^ - 91 
 
 XL. The Guilty Dog, - - - - - - - - 93 
 
 XLI. The Sage Advice, - - " - 97 
 
 XLII. The Dog and the Cat, ------- 99 
 
 XLIII. The Canary and the Crow, - - - - - - - 101 
 
 XLIV. Tlie Monkey with the Magic Lantern, - - - - 103 
 
 XLV. The Three Fortune Seekers, - - - - - - 106 
 
 XLVI. The Persecuted Poodle, - - - - - - 109 
 
 XLVII. The Dove and the Magpie, 113 
 
 XLVIII. The Squirrel, the Dog, and the Fox, 115 
 
 XLIX. King Alphonso, - - 118 
 
 L. Death's Choice of Prime Minister, ----- 119 
 
 LI. The Journey, - ISO 
 
 Closing Lines, - - - = " " - 121
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Jean Pieeke Claris de Florian, the author from whose fables 
 the following selections have been made, was born in 1755, in the 
 Chateau de Florian, at the foot of the Cevennes in Languedoc, 
 France. His mother was a lady of beauty and excellence of char- 
 acter, of Spanish origin, whose maiden name was Gilette de Saigné. 
 One of his uncles had married a niece of Voltaire, and it was prob- 
 ably through Voltaire's influence that at the age of thirteen he be- 
 came a page in the family of the Duke de Penthièvre, a nobleman 
 of great worth and distinction, who was respected even by his 
 enemies. 
 
 From the house of this nobleman Florian went to Ferney to com- 
 plete his education. It was there, Avhile imbibing a taste for let- 
 ters, that he excited a lively interest in Voltaire, who was pleased 
 by his frank, talented, and amiable conversation, and used occa- 
 sionally to help him in getting his lessons. It is creditable to the 
 independence and integrity of Florian's character that, althouo-h 
 brought at an early age under the influence of a genius so winning 
 and powerful as that of Voltaire, he yet preserved his individuality 
 and followed a literary career peculiarly his own, which was quite 
 opposite to that of his old and gifted friend. 
 
 At the age of sixteen Florian entered the artillery school of Ba- 
 paume. It appears that he was very well pleased with the militar}^ 
 profession, and from the royal cor23S of artillery he joined, as Lieu- 
 tenant, the Dragoon regiment of Penthièvi'e, where he was pro- 
 moted to a Captaincy. But as lie advanced in years, his attach-
 
 6 FLORIAX'S FABLES. 
 
 lueDt to letters seems to have acquired the ascendency over his mili- 
 tary tastes. He became a prolific and pojDular writer ; but among 
 all his works probably his Fables will longest retain a hold of pub- 
 lic appreciation. They have been translated into many languages, 
 and have run through more than one hundred editions. 
 
 Though he had exercised the office of gentleman-in-ordinary and 
 almoner to the Duke de Penthièvre, and had in that capacity ad- 
 ministered relief to the poor with great delicacy and benevolence, 
 yet when the revolution broke out he was accused of writing verses 
 in honor of the queen, and hurried off to prison. He lived for a 
 time in momentary expectation of death ; for his prison, that of La 
 Bourbe, had come to be noted as the inevitable first step towards 
 the scaffold. The death of Robespierre, however, restored him to 
 liberty ; but his imprisonment seemed to have left a melancholy 
 shade upon his spirit that time never fully removed. He died on 
 the 17th of September, 1794, in the thirty-ninth year of his age. 
 
 There is perhaps no especial value in the present translation over 
 those which may have gone before it ; but its interest is heightened 
 by preserving the illustrations of J. J. Grandville, which are fine 
 specimens of French art as it existed some half a century ago. 
 While they are hardly inferior to the best of such productions of 
 the present day, from any school of art, it is believed that they will 
 prove to be highly entertaining to the reader. It must be admitted 
 that the artist has done his author full justice, although the fables 
 are so highly esteemed by some that they have been favorably 
 compared with, and even equalled, to those of La Fontaine. The 
 world will hardly assent to that opinion, perhaps, but still Florian's 
 fables will ever be found interesting and instructive, and for this 
 reason these selections from them are now offered to the American 
 public.
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE I. 
 
 TRUTH AXD FABLE. 
 
 At length ainoiiL;- munkind to dwell, 
 Truth came, all naked, fi-om liei- well. 
 By living there so long alone, 
 She had a little passée grown ; 
 And old and young all fled surpris'd 
 The moment she was recognizM. 
 Poor Tkutii remain'd confounded (juite 
 By such an uususjDected slight. 
 
 Just then she clianc'd to see 
 
 Fable in all her finery, 
 Triclv'd out in plumes and diamonds, too
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 « 
 
 (The most of these wei'e false, 'tis true, 
 But yet were dazzling to the view), 
 Who, in familiar courtesy. 
 Exclaimed : " Oh, here you are, I see ! 
 And quite alone, too, I observe. 
 
 AVh}^ are you here. 
 
 My sister dear ?
 
 TRUTH AND FABLE. 
 
 What end do you propose to serve ? 
 
 Pray tell me, if you j^lease." 
 Says Truth : " I find I'm here to freeze; 
 For all I meet upon the road, 
 Deny me shelter or abode. 
 I'm shunn'd as if in fear or hate ; 
 But that, alas ! must be the fate 
 Of dames, like me, when out of date." 
 " Not so," says Fable in reply, 
 " For you are younger still than I ; 
 And yet, if I may be believ'd, 
 I'm ev'rywhere still \vell receiv'd. 
 But let me ask, why 'tis that you 
 Expose your nakedness to view ? 
 That's not discreet. Now list to me, 
 Since well our int'rests do agree ; 
 Let my bi'oad mantle drape your form : 
 'Twill serve to shelter both from harm. 
 Among the wise, for }'our sake. 
 All will my foolish sayings take ; 
 And with the fools, because of me. 
 You always \vell receiv'd will be." 
 Thus Fable, side by side with Truth, 
 Like as two sisters, liand in liaud, 
 Will teach and please both age and youth, 
 And welcoin'd be in ev'ry land.
 
 10 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 .-^/^ 
 
 FABLE II. 
 
 THE MIEROR OF TRUTH. 
 
 In that fam'cl time, the age of gold, 
 When peace prevail'd in every land, 
 And simple Truth herself made bold 
 To rove at large with glass in hand, 
 Each in her mirror dar'd to trace. 
 Without a blush, his own true face.
 
 THE MIRROR OF TRUTH. 11 
 
 But crimes udcI vices stole iu fast, 
 And soon those liappy days were past. 
 Then Truth, disgusted, to Heaven flew, 
 And back to earth her mirror threw. 
 Alas ! 'twas broken in the fall, 
 And scatter'd wide and lost to all. 
 
 Long centuries after it was seen 
 How very great the loss had been ; 
 And wise men then be2:an with care 
 To seek out Avhere the fraorments were. 
 They sometimes find them, here and there. 
 But very small and very rare : 
 So that they prove of little worth. 
 The truest man of all the earth. 
 With strongest mind and purest heart. 
 Can see himself therein but part.
 
 12 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE III. 
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 Once on a time rose fierce disputes 
 Between tliree very gentle linites — 
 
 The ox, the horse, and ass. 
 Their overweening pride, alas ! 
 As oft with men of seemiuçr sense, 
 Led them to strive for precedence. 
 Perhaps, my friend, you may deride 
 The thought of asses having pride ; 
 But are not others sometimes vain. 
 And aim at rank they can't attain ?
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 13 
 
 The patient ox witli humble mien, 
 Describ'd what worker he had been ; 
 
 How great his strength ; 
 
 And then at length 
 Dwelt on his great docility. 
 The courser boasted of his worth, 
 His noble carriage and his birth ; 
 The ass of his utility. 
 " Let's leave the question to three men ; 
 For here they come," exclaimed the horse ; 
 " If two decide for one, why then 
 We'll yield the palm to him of course." 
 The ox, who bore an honest face, 
 AVas charged to plainly state the case, 
 
 And ask for judgment thereupon. 
 One of the men a jockey was. 
 And therefore plead the horse's cause, 
 
 Because the horse could run. 
 "Nay, nay, my friend, it is not so," 
 One of the men — a cartman — said, 
 " The horse is only fit for sliow ; 
 I put the useful ass ahead." 
 "Oil, what great folly !" said the third, 
 " Whoever falser notions heard ? 
 'Tis [)lain to farmers of good sense, 
 The ox should have the preference." 
 "AVhat!" said the courser in a huff, 
 "Judgment like this is merest stuff'! 
 'Tis interest that rules with you." 
 " Pooh ! " said the jockey, " that is ti-ue ; 
 But is it somethins: strange or new i "
 
 14 
 
 FLOBIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 
 f4 
 
 >^'4*t7^i. "^ 
 
 
 -^'^*=^ <r_ 
 
 FABLE IV. 
 
 THE TWO TRAVELERS. 
 
 Two friendly comrades, Tom and Bill, 
 Were on their way to Thionville, 
 When Thomas found 
 A purse of gold upon the ground. 
 " What a wind-fall for us !^' said Bill.
 
 THE TWO TRAVELERS. 15 
 
 "No, not for us," Tom quick i-eplies; 
 '' To me, alone, belongs the prize." 
 Bill answered not. But soon tlieir wajr 
 Led them where ambush'd robbers lay. 
 Tom, trembling, would have taken Hight, 
 But rivetted by his affright, 
 Exclaimed, " Alas ! we are undone ! " 
 " Not we," says Bill, " but you alone." 
 And saying so he nimbly flies, 
 And through a hedge securely hies. 
 But Tom is capturVl, gagg'd, and bound. 
 And robb'd of all the gold he'd found. 
 
 Who, like our hero, is inclined 
 
 To keep good luck for his own ends. 
 Must soon or late be doom'd to find. 
 
 When ill luck comes he'll have no friends.
 
 IG 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 •«•«/.M;., 
 
 FABLE V. 
 
 THE INQUISITIVE CAT. 
 
 Ye bold philosophers who strain 
 Th' ioexplicable to explain, 
 Deign but to listen while I tell 
 What once a curious cat befell. 
 
 This tabby one day chanced to pass 
 Before her master's toilette glass ; 
 And made an effort to come at
 
 THE INQUISITIVE CAT. 17 
 
 What seemed to her a stranger cat. 
 Failing in front the cat to find, 
 She slyly then stole round behind. 
 Not meeting there the cat she sought, 
 And almost to her wit's ends brought, 
 Yet bent the mystery to explore, 
 
 She mounted on the glass astride, 
 One paw behind and one before 
 
 And in that way to catch it tried. 
 
 Now, bending down, an ear she spies. 
 And then another, which she eyes ; 
 Then with spry movements, quick and deft. 
 Working her paws from right to left, 
 She strives to grab the fleeting shade. 
 The shadows still her grasp evade, 
 
 Till, losing balance, down she Avent — 
 Down from the table to the floor — 
 Eesolv'd to hunt for shades no more, 
 
 But with plain sense to be content. 
 
 Turning away from things so nice, 
 She left the glass and went for mice. 
 *' For what," thought she, " can be the use 
 Pursuino; matters so abstruse ? " 
 Tnvolv'd in snares without an end. 
 Which none can ever comprehend, 
 Let AN'ise philosophers discuss. 
 What has no use for them or us.
 
 18 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE VI. 
 
 THE CARP AND HEE YOUNG. 
 
 "Take care, my little ones, take care, 
 Beware the river's bank," she said, 
 " The treacherous hook is lurking there ; 
 The hawk is hov'ring in the air ; 
 Keep ever to the river's bed." 
 Thus 'midst the waters of the Seine, 
 The cai-p once plead, yet plead in vain,
 
 THE CARP AND HER YOUNG. 19 
 
 With her young fry. 
 'Twas April ; aud tlirough all the sky, 
 The warm and moisty zephyrs flew, 
 To wake the mountains from their dreams; 
 And fill again the languid streams. 
 Which ovei"flow'd the country through. 
 
 Oh then to see 
 
 The revelry 
 
 Of the young fry, 
 
 As brisk and spry. 
 They darted through the swollen flood ! 
 
 " Where's now your fear. 
 
 My mother dear ? 
 There's nothing here but good. 
 The flood is to a deluge grown, 
 The whole world now is ovei'&own, 
 And its dominion is our own. 
 What is the need, midst such a sea, 
 In fear of hooks or hawks to be ? " 
 Thus said the young fry in their glee. 
 " No, no," the mother straight replies, 
 " This flood is but a moment's rise ; 
 Your only safety, as I've said. 
 Is not to leave the river's bed." 
 
 '' Oh pish ! " 
 Exclaimed the mad young fish. 
 
 " You Aveak old carp I 
 You always on that one string harp ! 
 We are resolv'd to leave the Seine, 
 And enter on our new domain."
 
 80 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 So sayiug, off the young ones go, 
 
 Exulting in the ovei"flow. 
 
 We need not on their journey dwell, 
 
 For soon the risen waters fell ; 
 
 The carplings, caught in shallow pools, 
 
 The fools! 
 Were hurried to the frying pan. 
 Now let him tell me, he who can, 
 Why did these carplings disobey, 
 And from the river stroll away ? 
 Was it because they thought they knew 
 Their mother's counsels were not true ? 
 Or was't they wanted something new ? 
 Or did they think that — Ah, my friend ! 
 To such inquiries where's the end ?
 
 THE TWO GARDENERS. 
 
 2J 
 
 Ay 
 
 
 ?J>^^ 
 
 
 FABLE VII. 
 
 THE TWO GAKDENERS. 
 
 Two brotlier gardeners bad the lot 
 
 To fall heirs to a garden spot. 
 
 They halved in peace the legacy, 
 
 Working together day by day, 
 
 Living in perfect amity, 
 
 Each managing in his own way. 
 
 One of the two, whose name was John,
 
 22 FLO RI AN \S FABLES. 
 
 A gift of speech much doted on. 
 He thought himself a man of wit. 
 That e'en for LL.D. was iit. 
 
 He had the knack 
 Of conning o'er the ahuanac. 
 Of books and charts he kept a stock, 
 And daily eyed the weather-cock. 
 Still to his genius giving wing, 
 
 He sought to know 
 How from one single pea could spring 
 The thousand peas that from it grow ; — 
 Why from the linden's tiny seed 
 A tree so lofty should proceed, 
 While from the bean's far ampler size 
 A mere shrub comes that shortly dies ; 
 And, above all, how beans should know 
 Their branches up from earth to throw, 
 Yet downwards thrust their roots below. 
 But while in search of truths like these, 
 He quite forgets his cabbages. 
 
 His wat'ring pot 
 
 Is too foi'got. 
 He fails his fig-trees to protect, 
 Aoiainst the cold north winds that freeze, 
 While wilted drops his lettuces, 
 And all things suffer from neglect. 
 He has no fruit ; and, what is worse, 
 There is no money in his purse ; 
 So that our learned doctor lacks. 
 In spite of all his almanacs.
 
 THE TWO GARDENERS. 23 
 
 The means wherewith to live, 
 And fain must take what others give. 
 
 His brother, np at break of day, 
 Went to his work with right good wWi ; 
 Sung with the birds a cheerful lay, 
 And never failed liis lot to till. 
 Setting aside the things unknown, 
 And mindful of his crops alone, 
 In simple faith he sow'd his field, 
 And was re^varded b}' the }ield. 
 He dug and water'd ev'rything, 
 From gooseberry to apricot ; 
 And none to market e'er could bring 
 Of fruits and plants a finer lot. 
 Hence he had money and to spare, 
 And with his brother ^vell could share. 
 " How is't," said Jolni, " my brother dear, 
 That you know how to thrive so well ^" 
 His brother answered : " 'Tis quite clear ; 
 AVe need not on the myst'ry dwell, 
 /go to ^vork and till tlie ground, 
 AVhile i/on <lo naught but rack your brains ; 
 And wliile with me all things abound, 
 Yoii get but labor for your pains. 
 The question, tlien, I leave to you, 
 Wliich is the wiser of the two ? "
 
 24 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE VIII. 
 
 THE GARDENER AND THE AGED TREE, 
 
 A tree that in a garden stood, 
 Had grown too old for doing good : 
 
 Sucb is the fate of all. 
 It was a pear-tree that no more
 
 THE GARDENER AND THE AGED TREE. 25 
 
 Its former luscious fruitaç^e bore : 
 
 And hence was dooni'd to fall. 
 Scarce liad th' ungrateful gardener sunk 
 His sharp-edged axe into its trunk, 
 
 When thus the old tree spoke: — 
 " Oh think of all the good I've done ; 
 The fruit I've borne ; the praise I've won, 
 
 And spare the murd'rous stroke ! 
 Oh do not hasten to thei]' end 
 The few last days of your old friend ! " 
 The ingrate answer'd : — " Yea, indeed, 
 I'm truly loath to lay you low ; 
 But still of wood I stand in need, 
 And cannot to the forest go." 
 The nightingales then intercede ; 
 Gush out a long and loud refrain. 
 And of th' intended Avrong comjJain.- 
 They ^vake the gardener's memor}- — 
 His wife oft sitting 'neath tliat tree, 
 And listening to their song tlie while 
 Tlieir dulcet notes her cares beo'uile. 
 But lie, unheeding their appeal, 
 liesolv'd another blow to deal. 
 The aged trunk the stroke broke in, ' 
 Which rais'd around his eai's a din. 
 For out there came a swarm of bees, 
 And gave tlT intruder woi-ds like these : — 
 " What are you doing, wretclied man ? 
 Your int'rests injuring all you can ! 
 Are you not able to [)erceive
 
 36 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 That if this hoaie to us you'd leave, 
 Our honey of more worth would l)e 
 Than all the wood of this old tree ? 
 All tender memories apart, 
 Does not this reason reach your heart ? " 
 " Ah, yes ! " the gardener said at last, 
 " What happy days have here been past ! 
 Much do I owe this good old tree 
 For all the fruit 't has given me. 
 How oft my wife has hither stray'd, 
 To sit beneath its soothing shade, 
 While 'midst its whisp'ring leaves above, 
 The uicrhtins-ales recall'd our love ! 
 
 Yes, let the old tree stand ! 
 And for these bees whose honied store 
 Will make me richer than before, 
 
 With flowers I'll plant the land." 
 
 So thus it is, we may rely, 
 
 Tliat mankind grateful will be found. 
 When only ev'ry means we try. 
 
 To have them by their int'rests bound.
 
 THE IVY AND THE THYME. 3? 
 
 FABLE IX. 
 
 THE IVY AND THE THYME. 
 
 *' How I do pity yon, indeed, 
 My sorry, little trembling weed ! " 
 Once said the ivy to the thyme. 
 ^' Yon ahv\ays creep and never climb. 
 Whilst scarce above the ground you rise, 
 T mount this oak and seek the skies : — 
 The old oak which Jove cherishes, 
 My comrade is." 
 
 ^' I know," the thyme replied, " 'tis true, 
 In height T can't dispute with you, 
 But my support is all my own, 
 While you could never stand alone. 
 'Tis by that tree you mount so high ; 
 Alone you could not climb at all ; 
 But in your feebleness would fall. 
 And creep e'en lower than I." 
 
 Attend ye authors who ^^•ould seek 
 
 By learned Latin, or by Greek, 
 
 To climl) aloft in prose or rhyme: — 
 
 Whate'er you do, 
 
 Keep well in view. 
 These words of ^visdonl of the thyme.
 
 28 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE X. 
 
 THE CHILD AND THE LOOKING-GLASS. 
 
 Ouce on a time it came to pass, 
 A child by a poor woman rais'd, 
 
 First saw at home a looking-glass, 
 In which it often fondly gazed. 
 
 At length, by a mere child's caprice, 
 But Avhich the grown man often shows, 
 
 Its raptures for the mirror cease, 
 At wliich it \m]y Q-lauces throws.
 
 THE CHILD AND THE LOOKING-GLASS. 39 
 
 These «^lances now Lis rao-e iuflame. 
 
 At what he loved before ; 
 And as the image makes the same, 
 
 He's angered moi-e and more. 
 
 Whene'er his angry fist he shakes, 
 Or ^vry and hateful faces makes, 
 The image, aping ev'ry whim, 
 Repeats the same bad thoughts to him. 
 
 Enraged at insults so extreme, 
 At last he bui'sts out in a scream. 
 
 His mother coming wiped his face. 
 And gave her child a kind embrace ; 
 Consol'd his wrath and gently show'd 
 How 'twas those insults ^vere bestowed. 
 
 " For, if you smile," she said, " 'tis plain, 
 The image will smile back again. 
 Extend }our arms for an embrace. 
 And 't^vill not make an angry face. 
 You see, "whatever you may do, 
 The image does the same to you." 
 
 So in the world at large 'twill be ; 
 'Tis your own image there you'll see.
 
 80 
 
 FLORIAN\S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE XI. 
 
 THE TWO CATS. 
 
 Two cats of ancient pedigree, 
 
 The finest of their race e'er seen, 
 
 Were difï'rent in a great degree, 
 
 For one was fat and 'tother lean. 
 
 The elder daily had a feast, 
 
 Like senator, or judge, or priest ; 
 
 Was round and portly, fresh, and sleek.
 
 THE TWO CATS. 31 
 
 Serene of brow, and plump of cheek, 
 
 While 'tother, eating mice alone, 
 
 AVas little else than skin and bone ; 
 
 Though ever busy on the watch, 
 
 As cats should be, his prey to catch, 
 
 Peerino; around with famish'd look, 
 
 In ev'iy cranny, hole, and nook, 
 
 He toil'd from morn till eve, and yet 
 
 Could scarce a full meal ever get. 
 
 At length, by hunger sore distress'd, 
 
 His elder l)rother he address'd : — 
 
 " How is't that you can have good cheer, 
 
 While / at death's door am so near ? 
 
 Though you are idle all the day. 
 
 And I'm at work, and never play, 
 
 How is it, brother, please exjdain, 
 
 Why you are fat and I am lean ? " 
 
 " The reason, brother, 's ver}' plain," 
 
 Said fatty in complacent strain. 
 
 You've quite too conscientious been. 
 
 You hunt for mice." " Is that not right ? " 
 
 The younger answered with some spite. 
 
 " Ah, yes," the elder makes re[)ly, 
 
 " 'Tis right enough, perhaps, Ijut I 
 
 Can always near my master sit, 
 
 And seek to please him by my wit. 
 
 I share his favors, his repast ; 
 
 Ask little first, take much at last; 
 
 Strive to amuse him with my tricks, 
 
 Learn'd in the school of politics,
 
 33 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 While you, my brother, .-ire a flat, 
 And serve liim merely as a cat. 
 The real secret of success, 
 In cunning lies, not usefulness. 
 If you would prosper here below, 
 Play tricks and let your duties go ! " 
 
 FABLE XII. 
 
 THE PRINCE AKI) THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 A young prince and his tutor stray'd 
 Through a grove for a promenade. 
 There, as the time upon him hung 
 
 AVith heavy weight — 
 (Such is the usage of the great), 
 A bird beneath the folia^-e suno; : 
 It was the charming nightingale. 
 Should not the princel}" rank avail 
 To cage the bird without delay ? 
 But hunting through the leafy shade, 
 So great the fracas that he made, 
 The l^ird took fright and flew away. 
 
 "Why," said His Highness, in great wiath — 
 " Why does this bird thus shun my path ? 
 Why does he choose this desert waste, 
 While spai'rows round my palace feast ? 
 
 His tutor answerd : — " This will show 
 What some day you will come to know ; 
 Fools crowd in plenty to be bought. 
 While merit hides, and must be sous^ht."
 
 TRUE HAPPINESS. 
 
 83 
 
 ;lWllî 
 
 W.EES~.l.fLClB 
 
 FABLE XI 11. 
 
 TRUE ILVPPINESS. 
 A poor young cricket, small and shy, 
 Pass^inir retir'd liis sunnner Lours, 
 Belield one day a buttei-fly, 
 
 Flittino- amono; tbe flowers. 
 Of ev'ry color, ev'ry hue,
 
 34 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 The sfaiuly insect well miirbt boast. 
 
 From flower to flower it gaily flew, 
 
 Alightiug where it pleasVl him most. 
 
 '' Alas ! " the pining cricket sigli'd, 
 
 '' What diffrences us two divide ! 
 
 While Nature does so much for him, 
 
 For me she nothing does at all. 
 
 I'm void of sense and coarse of limb, 
 
 With figure despicabl}' small ; 
 
 I'm heeded not, am lone and lorn. 
 
 And might as well have not been born." 
 
 But Avhile the cricket thus complain'd, 
 
 A sudden uproar round him reign'd ; 
 
 A troop of children rushing by. 
 
 Came hunting for the butterfly. 
 
 With nets, and hats, and kerchiefs too, 
 
 The gaudy insect they pursue. 
 
 He struggles hard to get away. 
 
 But falls at last a helpless prey. 
 
 One seizes on his wings of gold ; 
 
 Another at his body aims ; 
 
 A third upon his head lays hold ; 
 
 In short, each one the insect claims, 
 
 But leaves him mangled, dead, and cold. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! " the cricket said, " I see 
 
 AVhat 'tis a brilliant thing to be. 
 
 If such the cost to those who shine, 
 
 / ought no longei' to repine ; 
 
 But to live happy I must be 
 
 Contented with obscurity."
 
 THE SHEPHERD AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 35 
 
 FABLE XIV. 
 
 THE SHEPHERD AND THE NIGHTINGALE, 
 
 One balmy niglit iu charming May, 
 As on a hill a shepherd lay, 
 And from the sky with stars o'erspread. 
 The moon her silv'ry radiance shed ; 
 While from the rose and lilacs there, 
 y Perfumes were filling all the air; 
 While meadows all asleep and still, 
 Were lull'd by murmurs of the rill, 
 A uio-htino-ale witli tender strain, 
 Voic'd forth the peace of hill and plain, 
 Which seem'd uprising to the skies. 
 From Nature's sweetest harmonies. 
 But in the fullness of that peace, 
 Then all at once the warblings cease. 
 The bird had ended her wild song, 
 And would no more its strains prolong. 
 The shepherd urged her, but in vain, 
 To sing that witching song again. 
 " No," said the bird, " my days are o'er ; 
 These scenes shall hear my voice no more.
 
 S6 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 For do you not, from yonder bogs, 
 Hear the loud discord of those frogs. 
 Who drown my music by their din, 
 With which mine own cannot begin ? 
 Before their mastery I yield. 
 And must forever quit the field." 
 " î^ay," said the shepherd, " that's the way 
 To give those croakers their full sway. 
 To silence you is what they want, 
 And strive to do it by that j-ant. 
 When I am hearing your sweet airs, 
 I'm not e'en conscious then of theirs."
 
 THE LAUGHING SOLITAIRE. 
 
 37 
 
 FABLE XV 
 
 THE LAUGHING SOLITAIRE. 
 
 Tbroiio-liout all Greece 'twas knowu 
 That Mysone lived alone — 
 
 That he lov'd ^visdom for herself ; 
 
 Was free from trouble as from pelf ; 
 
 Content and easy, without strife, 
 
 Reflecting on the things of life.
 
 38 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 In woods retir'd lie passVl his days, 
 Far from the crowd's accustom'd ways. 
 
 But iu this solitude, 
 Where nothing trivial might intrude, 
 He would at times quite jovial be, 
 And laugh out loud and merrily. 
 At length one day two Grecians came, 
 Attracted by his laughing fame. 
 And in amazement wish'd to know 
 How any mortal living so. 
 Could laugh. " How can you laugh, Mysone," 
 They ask'd, " since you live all alone ? " 
 " That is the very reason why 
 I laugh," was his reply.
 
 THE TWO YOUNG WARRIORS. 
 
 39 
 
 ilk W:\ %■■(■ i^ 
 
 
 
 FABLE XVI. 
 
 THE TWO YOUNG AVARRIOKS. 
 
 Two farraei'-boys, geuteel and bright, 
 AVho in ill-doing took delight 
 (For they Avere by their father spoilVl), 
 "Were seeking nests the garden round. 
 A brood of partridges they found, 
 And in their joy went neai'ly Avild. 
 The fledgelings scatter far and near 
 Under the impulse of their fear,
 
 40 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 And to go free great efforts make ; 
 
 But the two urchins here and there, 
 
 Meet and head them ev^erywhere, 
 
 Till every single one they take. 
 
 The mother trails her wings in vain ; 
 
 Now^ timid flies, and now makes bold ; 
 
 But uselessly she'd longer feign ; 
 
 The boys get all their pockets hold. 
 
 Each boy has six ; one yet remains ; 
 
 And for this odd one both contend; 
 
 Each of his rights and w^rongs complains, 
 
 Till of dispute there seems no end. 
 
 "Let us draw lots!" "No!" "Yes!" "Yes!" "No!'* 
 
 So to and fro, 
 The bandied w^ords between them go. 
 
 " I'll knock you down ! " 
 
 " I'll break your cro^vn ! " 
 Hot and hotter the contest grew, 
 AVhen th' older one the odd bird threw 
 
 At his brother's head. 
 The younger brother in reply. 
 Then let another birdling fly. 
 The elder back another sped. 
 
 Neither wdll yield, 
 Until the ground is strewn around 
 
 Like any battle field, 
 AVith quiv'ring, gasping, dying birds. 
 The father, hap'ning round that w^ay, 
 Stopp'd to observe the cruel play. 
 And to his boys address'd these words :— 

 
 THE FOX AS A PREACHER. 41 
 
 " What ! are you huigs, that you should be 
 With lives of innocents so free ? 
 AVhat right have you, I'd like to know, 
 To deal around }'ou death and Avoe, 
 Like emperors, whose sport it is, 
 To slay mankind like partridges?" 
 
 FABLE XVII. 
 
 THE FOX AS A PREACIIEK. 
 
 An old fox, gouty, apoplectic. 
 
 All broken down, but learn'd and wise, 
 
 Eloquent and skillM in logic, 
 
 His ai't at moral teachiuc^ tries. 
 
 And to the desert rais'd his cries. 
 
 His style Avas fine, liis moral good ; 
 
 Under three heads his sermons stood ; 
 
 He phainly provM simplicity, 
 
 Good mannei's and inteçrrity. 
 
 Must end in that felicity 
 
 To wliich a lying world alhu-es, 
 
 But never to our hopes secures, 
 
 Although we pay for't a large fee. 
 
 At first he met ^vitli no success; 
 
 None ever came to hear him preacli, 
 
 Save a few squirrels, more or less, 
 
 Wlio chanc'd to fall witliin liis reacli ; 
 
 i)v timid does, of little name, 
 
 AVlio could not spread the preaelier's fame. 
 
 At length he Avholly changVl his course, 
 
 And aiinM at t\Tants his discoui'se.
 
 42 
 
 FLOBIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 
 THE FOX AS A PREACHER. 
 
 AVith lofty strokes lie boldly dares 
 To hit at lions, tigers, bears, 
 And all the monsters of the wood : 
 Condemns their ravenous thirst for blood, 
 Their gluttony, their rage, their spite,
 
 THE FOX AS A PREACHER. 43 
 
 Their love of wrong, contempt of rigbt, 
 The selfish use they make of war, 
 
 Et cetera, et cetera. 
 And now the Avorld crowd up to hear 
 A preacher of so little fear. 
 Deer, gazelles, kids, show their deep sense 
 Of his all-powerful eloquence. 
 His geu'rous truths they recognize ; 
 He's listened to with weeping eyes ; 
 His fame is spread the country round ; 
 The tidino-s far and near resound — 
 Are boi'ne upon the poplar voice. 
 Until at court they make a noise. 
 The lion who at that time reign'd 
 (Good and pious as things then went), 
 To hear the famous preacher deign'd, 
 And to invite his presence sent. 
 Charm'd with the royal courtesy. 
 The preaclier went without delay. 
 His sermon now himself surpass'd. 
 It was a perfect thunder-blast 
 Aarainst th' infernal thirst iov Llood 
 Indulged by tyrants of the \V()0(1. 
 He spoke of helpless innocence, 
 Oppress'd by lawless insolence ; 
 Dwelt on the vices of the great ; 
 Their love of power insatiate ; 
 He caird for justice long delavM, 
 'Gainst those who on the feeble prey VI, 
 Till beasts of prey all quak'd witli fear
 
 4à . FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Such awful sentences to liear. 
 
 The courtier's at each other gaz'd, 
 
 Aud at such rudeness sat amazYl ; 
 
 But prudently remarks forbore. 
 
 Because the king was pleas'd to be, 
 
 Complacent towards this liberty, 
 
 Accustom'd to such things before. 
 
 The sermon ended, the king sent 
 
 To manifest his great content. 
 
 Had the l)old preacher to him brought, 
 
 Aud thank'd him for the truths he'd taught. 
 
 " What must I give you in reward," 
 
 He ask'd, " for fearless words like these ? " 
 
 Old Reynard, taken off his guard, 
 
 Replied : — '^ Some turkeys if you please ! '* 
 
 FABLE XYIII. 
 
 THE KING OF PERSIA. 
 
 Once on a time a Persian king 
 With all his court was at the chase. 
 Becoming diy, he found no spring, 
 Nor any Avater in the place. 
 But near at hand a garden lay. 
 With citrons, grapes and oi-anges, 
 AVliose juices might his thirst allay. 
 " But God save me from eating these ! '^ 
 The king exclaim'd ; "for if one fi'uit 
 I take from out that garden ^vall. 
 These viziers mine would follow suit, 
 And take fruit, trees, and garden all."
 
 THE RHINOCEROS AND DROMEDARY. 
 
 45 
 
 FABLE XIX. 
 
 THE HIIINOCEROS AND DKOMEDARY. 
 
 One day a }'ouug rliinoceros 
 
 Tims addressVl the dromedary : — 
 
 " Can you, my friend, explain to us 
 
 Wliv our fortunes so much vai \- —
 
 46 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 AVby man the lord of all our race 
 Ahvays provides for you a place ? 
 He gives you shelter, food, aud care ; 
 And e'en his l)read ^vith you will share. 
 By him you are esteem'd so high, 
 He seeks j'our race to multiply. 
 You have good qualities, 'tis true ; 
 Are gentle, sober, never slack ; 
 You bear his burdens on your back. 
 His wife and children too : 
 
 All this I own ; 
 But are these merits yours alone ? 
 To m then, is there nothing due ? 
 In fact, I think, with due respect. 
 We well might man's regards expect 
 
 As well as you. 
 AVe furnish him with horn and shield 
 To aid him on the battle-field. 
 Yet he pursues us with his hate ; 
 Hunts us with rage insatiate ; 
 Despises us, or in his wrath, 
 Impels us to avoid his path." 
 
 The dromedary made reply : — 
 " Why envy us our lot, my friend ? 
 To serve is nothing ; you must try 
 To make man's pleasure your sole end. 
 Be not surpris'd that he should show 
 
 Such favor to our progeny : 
 The secret of it, you must know, 
 
 Is this : — we've learn'd to bend the knee."
 
 THE PEACOCK, TWO GOSLINGS, AND THE DIVER. 
 
 47 
 
 .M 
 
 
 FARLE XX. 
 
 THE PEACOCK, TWO GOSLINGS, AND THE DIVER. 
 
 His ^vondrous plumes the peacock spread, 
 And was admir'd by other birds;
 
 48 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 But two young geese in mucl-lioles bred, 
 Quawk'cl out their comments in these words : — 
 " Do see," said one, " that leg of his ! 
 And what an ugly foot that is ! " 
 " And what a voice ! " the other cried, 
 " Enough to make the scritch-owl hide." 
 So pleas'd were they with their own wit, 
 They went into a laughing iit. 
 When of a sudden up there came 
 A diver from the depths below. 
 " Messieurs ! " said he, " though you may blame 
 The bird for faults that we all know. 
 Yet is your voice than his more sweet, 
 Or have you any better feet. 
 That you should venture thus to quiz ? 
 And as for plumage, let me say. 
 You nevei" yet will see the day, 
 When yours will equal his."
 
 THE MISER AND HIS SON. 
 
 49 
 
 FABLE XXI. 
 
 THE MISER AND HIS SON. 
 
 By wliat strange chance I do not know, 
 But on a time it happened so — 
 A miser to the market went, 
 And a small sum for apples spent.
 
 50 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 PlacVl in a closet in a row, 
 
 They make a most deliglitful show, 
 
 He counts and counts them o'er and o'er^ 
 
 Then double-locks and bolts the door, 
 
 Yet oft returns to view his store. 
 
 But sad indeed this miser's lot, 
 For even miser s apples rot ; 
 He sighing eats the ones that perish, 
 But still persists the sound to cherish. 
 
 His son, a school-boy, on half fare, 
 Discover'd where the apples were ; 
 He got the keys, and with t^vo friends, 
 For his short fare soon made amends. 
 
 The miser came and stood dismayed 
 To see the havoc they had made, 
 He loud exclaim'd as if undone, 
 " Grive back my apples every one, 
 Or I'll hang ev'ry mother's son ! " 
 
 " Be quiet, father," said the boy, 
 " We are all decent fellows here ; 
 So be appeas'd and do not fear ; 
 We would not in the least annoy : 
 We leave the bad ones for your sake, 
 'Tis only sound ones that we take."
 
 THE OLD MANS ADVICE. 61 
 
 FABLE XXU. 
 
 THE OLD MAN'S ADVICE. 
 " Please teach me how a fortune's made," 
 A young man to his father said. 
 The old man answer'd : — " There's a way 
 Which is glorious, I may say : 
 Though 'tis the way least understood ; — 
 It is to serve the common good ; 
 To give one's life, one's toil, one's care 
 In useful service of the state." 
 " Oh that's a labor far too great : 
 I want some way less hard by far." 
 " Well then, there's intrigue, which is sure." 
 " But that vile way I can't endure. 
 From both hard labor and from vice 
 
 I would be free'd." 
 " Then be a fool ! Take my advice ; — 
 For many such I've seen succeed." 
 
 FABLE XXUL 
 
 THE ROPE-DANCER. 
 
 A young man on the tight-ro23e danc'd 
 With balance-pole in hand ; 
 
 Sway'd to and fro, fell back, advanc'd, 
 Or bolt up straight would stand. 
 
 A crowd of persons came to see, 
 
 His feats of bold agility. 
 
 Now up he goes, then down again, 
 
 All free and easy, light and spry ; 
 
 Rebounding from the tight I'ope's strain, 
 
 In cadence with it springing high.
 
 53 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 THE ROPE-DANCER. 
 
 As birds that o'er the water go, 
 But barely touch it with the wing, 
 So he but seem'd to press the toe 
 Upon the quick-responding string.
 
 THE ROPE-DANCER. 53 
 
 Of these exploits grown proud at length, 
 He said one day : — " Why use this pole ? 
 It weighs me down, impairs my strength, 
 Embarrasses my free control — 
 More grace I'd have and freer play 
 If I should throw the thing away." 
 
 No sooner said than done. 
 But once his pole was thrown aside, 
 And his new dancing had begun. 
 With arms outstretch'd and awkward stride, 
 He waver'd, lost his balance, fell, 
 Broke his nose, and all the crowd 
 At his tumble lauo;hed aloud. 
 
 My dear young friends ! you know full well 
 Tliat he who has no check at all, 
 Must soon or later have a fall. 
 Though reason, virtue, rule, and law 
 Againi^t young inclinations draw 
 
 Like a check-rein. 
 Your fiery passions to restrain ; 
 They are the needed balance-pole. 
 To keep your fame and fortune whole.
 
 5é 
 
 FLOBIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 in 
 
 FABLE XXIV. 
 
 THE MONKEY AND THE APE. 
 
 A young ape one day found a nut, 
 Wbicli straight into his mouth he put, 
 And set his teeth on't for a bite. 
 He tried it o'er and o'er again,
 
 THE MONKEY AND THE APE. 55' 
 
 But fiiidiDg all Lis efforts vaiu, 
 Threw it away with spite. 
 " My mother must have lied," he said, 
 "To say she had ou such things fed — 
 
 That they were good and sweet, 
 And fit to eat. 
 AVhat fools are young folks to believe 
 Old women's tales — they but deceive ! 
 
 The devil take suck fruit, 
 
 And granny too, to boot ! " 
 A monkey seizing on the prize, 
 Thus to the foolish ape replies : — 
 '' See here ! my friend, I'll show to you. 
 That your good mother told you true." 
 Then ^vitk a stone the nut he breaks, 
 And therefrom all the kernel takes. 
 And as he eats 
 Its luscious sweets — 
 " You see," says he, " for food 'tis fit. 
 If you'll take pains to open it. 
 No good in this life one e'er gains, 
 AVithout some labor, care, and pains."
 
 56 
 
 FLOBIAN'S FABLES. 
 A 
 
 y 
 
 
 (.MUD XiL 
 
 FABLE XXV. 
 
 THE LINNET AND THE TUETLE DOVE. 
 
 A little linnet all day long 
 Found constant happiness in song, 
 The while her friend, a turtle dove. 
 Nor thought nor car'd for aught but love. 
 " You're very wrong," the turtle said,
 
 THE LINNET AND THE TURTLE DOVE. 57 
 
 " To waste your time in siicli a ^^■ay ; 
 The greatest pleasure for a maid 
 Is to have lovers ev'ry day : 
 What song can e'er impart the bliss 
 The lover feels from one sweet kiss?" 
 To this the linnet warbl'd low : — 
 " I could not venture to compare 
 One with the other ; but I know 
 How great the charms of music are : 
 
 If these I have, 
 No other pleasure do I crave." 
 At this discourse, the dove in spite 
 Bade her adieu, and took to flight. 
 
 Years passVl, ten long and weary years, 
 AVith all their checker'd hopes and fears, 
 When one fine day in spring the twain 
 Met in the same old grove again. 
 Great was the change they'd undergone, 
 And long they stood and gaz'd, 
 As if amaz'd 
 At looks so alter'd and forlorn. 
 
 At length the linnet silence broke, 
 
 And thus politely spoke : — 
 " Good morning, friend ! How do you do ? 
 And how are all those lovers too ? " 
 " Ah ! never mention them, my dear : 
 For I have lost them all, I fear : 
 Friends, lovers, youth, and pleasures — yea, 
 Everything has pass'd away.
 
 58 FLORIAN'S FABLES.. 
 
 To love and please was all ni}- tLought ; 
 But what delusion it has brought ! 
 I still love on, just as before, 
 But then I'm lov'd in turn no more." 
 
 *' I'm not so badly off as you," 
 
 The linnet said ; " for though 'tis true 
 
 I'm growing old, with loss of voice, 
 
 Yet still in music I i-ejoice, 
 
 And when with her wild mao-ic trills 
 
 The nightingale the forest fills, 
 
 Beguiling all the weary night, 
 
 Her sweet song fills me with delight." 
 
 Though beauty is a gift divine, 
 Yet its possession may not l)less ; 
 Its charms with merit must combine 
 To prove a source of happiness : 
 It fades away, 
 While talents stay 
 And please e'eu when our own decay.
 
 HERCULES IN HEAVEN. 59 
 
 FABLE XXVI. 
 
 HERCULES IX HEAVEN. 
 
 AVben Hercules, his labors doue, 
 For his reward had Heaven won, 
 The gods pressed forward to salute 
 A hero of such wide repute. 
 Minerva, Mars, and Venus came 
 To show their rev'reuce for his name ; 
 E'en Juno's self was quite polite 
 Which fill'd the hero with delisfht. 
 But when with those assembled there 
 God Plutus came with lofty air, 
 And gave his hand with haughty pride, 
 Our hero turn'd his head aside. 
 
 " My son ! " said Jupiter, " say why 
 Such anger flashes from thine eye. 
 What has this god e'er done to thee 
 That thou "wàth him so wroth shouldst be ? " 
 
 " It is because I know him well : 
 When I upon the earth did dwell, 
 1 saw him sfoinsï han<l in hand, 
 W^ith the woi'st knaves of all the laud."
 
 60 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 
 FABLE XXVII. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE OWL. 
 
 AVrong'd, persecuted, aud proscrib'd, 
 lu foreign lands compellVl to hide, 
 For calling tilings by their right name, 
 A sa2:e took with him all his wealth — 
 (His wisdom) — which he kept by stealth, 
 And to a friendly forest came.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE OWL. 61 
 
 There, while poud'ring o'er his woes, 
 
 He saw an owl beset by foes — 
 
 An angry crowd of Jays and crows. 
 
 They peck'd him, curs'd him, call'd him sot, 
 
 And said he was no patriot. 
 
 " Let's pluck him," said they, " of his plumes — 
 
 This rascal who such wit assumes ! " 
 
 " Let's hang him," said the wrathful birds, 
 
 " And judge the villain afterwards ! " 
 
 In vain the owl implor'd for peace, 
 And call'd on them their rage to cease. 
 The sage was touch'd to see the owl 
 Assail'd by words and deeds so foul 
 (For wisdom always makes the mind 
 To peace and gentleness inclin'd). 
 He quell'd the rage, and ask'd the l^ird 
 Why such a mob was 'gainst him stirr'd. 
 " Wherefore," said he, '' is all this strife ? 
 Why do these foes thus seek yoiu' life ? '* 
 " My only crime," the owl replied, 
 " Is one which they cannot abide ; 
 The reason why I've rous'd their spite. 
 Is simply this — I see by night."
 
 63 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 k Mo 
 
 FABLE XXVIII. 
 
 THE LEOPARD AND THE MONKEYS. 
 
 Once on a time some monkey folk 
 
 Hot-cockles play'd. 
 The game was but a simple joke : 
 A fair one sits, her lap array VI 
 So as to hide a monkey's eyes :
 
 THE LEOPARD AND THE MONKEYS. 63 
 
 He holds bis paw to catch a blow ; 
 AVho gives the blow he does not know, 
 But all his wit at guessing tries. 
 Does he guess wrong ? Oh, then how great 
 The laughter, frolic, and the fun, 
 
 The cry, the frisk, the escapade, 
 
 The hop, the ski^), the gambolade 
 That through the crowd of players run ! 
 
 Drawn by the noise a leopard came 
 And enter'd on the sportiv^e scene. 
 They trembled at his very name. 
 Though of a gentle air and mien. 
 " Be not disturb'd, " his lordship said : 
 " I would in no wise incommode ; 
 With no ill aim do I invade 
 The premises of your abode : 
 Let me with you enjoy your fun : 
 
 Please let the sport go on." 
 " Ah, sir, how good it is of you, 
 To honor poor folks as you do ! 
 What ! you a man of high degree, 
 Thus set aside your dignity, 
 And join with folks so plain as we ! " 
 
 " Yes, such is my philosophy. 
 It is my fancy to declare, 
 That animals all equal are ; 
 So let the play go on, I say ; 
 
 Yes, let us have the i)lay." 
 
 Delighted by his words so fair,
 
 M FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 As by fair words folks always are, 
 The crowd believes as others do, 
 And once again their sports renew. 
 One hides his eyes, his hand extends, 
 As formerly among his friends. 
 And straight the leopard deals a blow 
 That makes the crimson blood to flow. 
 
 This time the monkey well could guess 
 
 Whose blow had given him such distress; 
 
 But waiting not the name to say, 
 
 He in great silence stole away. 
 
 His comrades vainly strove to smile; 
 
 The leopard howe'er laugh'd outright ; 
 
 They all excus'd themselves the while. 
 
 As best they might. 
 And leaving, thus growl'd out their spite :• 
 " The people of such lofty tone 
 'Twere well for us to let alone ; 
 For hid beneath the softest paws. 
 The gentlest of them have sharp claws."
 
 THE TWO BALD-HEADS. 
 
 65 
 
 
 FABLE XXIX. 
 
 THE T\yO BALD-HEADS. 
 
 By chauce two bald-head beggars found 
 A sometliing shining in the gi-ound : 
 
 Each strove to have the prize. 
 Thev fouiijht, and fouî^ht, with kicks and blows ;
 
 66 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Pull'd hair and tore their ragged clothes, 
 And black'd each other's eyes. 
 
 He who at last the object gain'd, 
 Lost his few locks that still 2'emain'd ; 
 And when his prize he look VI upon, 
 Lo ! 'twas a broken comb he'd won ! 
 
 FABLE XXX. 
 
 THE TWO PEASANTS. 
 
 " Bill ! " said Luke one cloudy day, 
 
 In a sad foreboding tone, 
 " Just look at yonder cloud, I pray ! 
 
 How very black 'tis grown ! 
 Such threat'niug clouds as that portend 
 
 Some awful end." 
 "Why ? " answer'd Bill, " why think you so ? 
 'Twill only be a common blow.'^ 
 '* Wh}^ ! " replied Luke in a great pet ; 
 " It is a hail storm, and I'll bet 
 'Twill ruin vineyards, barley, wheat, 
 And ev'ry thing we raise to eat. 
 Nothing to live on will remain : 
 Famine wall follow, and in train 
 The pest will come, and we shall fall, 
 Village, people, crops and all ! " 
 
 " The pest seize on your storm ! " 
 Said Bill, getting rather warm ; 
 
 " Don't take alarm ! 
 For rest assur'd, the world, my friend,
 
 THE TWO PEASANTS. 
 
 67 
 
 THE TWO PEASANTS. 
 
 Is not yet comiug to au end ; 
 But coutrai'}' to wliat i/oiù say, 
 'Twill still move on from day to day. 
 'Tis not a liail-cloiid that you see : 
 A simple rain-storm it will he.
 
 68 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 'Twill water ev'ry field 
 
 That's siiiï'ring now for rain ; 
 
 And great will he the yield 
 
 Of ev'ry kind of grain. 
 
 A double crop of hay 
 
 Our labor will repay : 
 
 Wheat, half as niucli again ; 
 
 And grapes wall load the plain : 
 We shall lack nothing, I opine, 
 But casks enouo;h to liold the wine. 
 
 And hence, 
 We all shall live in opulence." 
 
 " That's very bright ! " 
 
 Said Luke with spite. 
 " AVell ! my ideas, say what you will, 
 Are good as yours," responded Bill. 
 " Ok then," said Luke, " if that's the case. 
 Let's wait and see what ^vill take place. 
 You'd better be not quite so fast : 
 'Tis ke lau2:hs best who lauo:hs the last." 
 " Then God be prais'd ! " was Bill's reply, 
 " I shall not be the one to cnj ! " 
 The two thus heated, and in rage, 
 A battle were about to wage. 
 When suddenly a puff of wind. 
 Bore the portentous cloud away, 
 Whicli neither hail'd nor rain'd that day, 
 
 Nor left a trace behind.
 
 THE LAW-SUIT BETWEEN TWO FOXES. 
 
 
 69 
 
 FABLE XXXI. 
 
 THE LAW-SUIT BETWEEN TWO FOXES. 
 
 Oh how I hate that pedant art, 
 So captious and so very smart, 
 Which of a thing as clear as light, 
 Makes all obscure and dark as night ; 
 ]\Iakes error right, and proves to you 
 That trutli itself must l)e untrue !
 
 70 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Th' invention of tliis art belongs 
 To folks once skillVl in all such wrongs, 
 The subtle Greeks, who — may they get 
 All the reward for't due them yet ! 
 
 This art an old fox once profess'd ; — 
 
 Its perfect master stood coufess'd. 
 
 He kept a school to teach the way, 
 
 And took fat pullets for his pay. 
 
 One of his pupils aim'd to be 
 
 A lawyer of the first degree, 
 
 And for tuition did agree 
 
 Of case first gain'd to give the fee. 
 
 In legal form the two compact ; 
 
 Sifjn'd, seal'd, deliver'd is the act. 
 
 But when the course of study's done, 
 
 The pupil for injunction sues ; 
 
 Declares he owes his master none 
 
 Of all the pullets claim'd for dues. 
 
 The leopard, learned in the laws. 
 
 Presides as judge to hear the cause. 
 
 " May't please the court," the pupil cried, 
 
 " If my case's gain'd, I need not pay ; 
 
 For so your honor will decide ; 
 
 And we the sentence must obey. 
 
 And if I lose, why, nothing's due, 
 
 For the conditions plainly say, 
 
 'Tis only if I win I pay. 
 
 Such is the law I apprehend ; 
 
 I would not, truly, wrong my friend."
 
 THE LAW-SUIT BETWEEN TWO FOXES. 71 
 
 " Nay, nay, uot so," the master said, 
 " The Liw is clear upon that head ; 
 For should the case against you go, 
 Then you should pay the debt you owe. 
 And if you win, why, then indeed 
 You must pay wp, as you agreed." 
 
 Here I'ested counsel its defense. 
 The leopard sat in mute suspense ; 
 And by the w^orkings of his face 
 He seem'd confounded with the case. 
 But finally he silence broke, 
 And thus his sentence briefly spoke : — 
 " In this sharp case the court must rule 
 The master no more keeps his school ; 
 And to the pupil — this award,— 
 From future practice he's debar'd."
 
 72 
 
 
 FLOBIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 
 m^'^mK^Wi 
 
 FABLE XXXn. 
 
 THE VIPER AND THE BLOOD-SUCKER. 
 
 Once to the leech the viper said — 
 
 " How dift'erent is our lot ! 
 They who love you would wish me dead ; 
 
 Men like me not. 
 They seem to bear for me some spite,
 
 THE VIPER AND THE BLOOD-SUCKER. 73 
 
 While OU their blood they let you feed. 
 
 Like you, I ouly give a bite ; 
 
 I do, like you, but make them l)leed." 
 
 " But my dear friend," the leech replied, 
 
 "7 bite to heal, but you to kill ; 
 
 How many patients would have died 
 
 But for the virtue of my skill ! 
 
 While well men are destroy 'd by you. 
 
 The health, of sick men I renew. * 
 
 The difference 't^veen us is, in chief, 
 
 Your bite is poison, mine, relief.'' 
 
 My tale would thus hold up to view, 
 What fe^v have fail'd to see, I ^vist — 
 The leech presents the Critic true ; 
 The viper is the Satirist.
 
 74 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE XXXIII 
 
 THE LEARNED COLLEGIANS. 
 
 An owl drawn from his hiding-place 
 
 By students in pursuit of knowledge, 
 
 AVas made to show his sapient face 
 
 Within the precincts of a college. 
 
 There quartered with a cat and goose, 
 
 He of the privilege made use 
 
 To go with them the whole course through.
 
 THE LEARNED COLLEGIANS, 76 
 
 Herodotus by heart they knew, 
 Deuis of Halicarnassus too ; 
 And all that Titus Livy wrote 
 Like learned doctors they could quote. 
 Discussing once as doctors do, 
 They pass'd the ancients in review. 
 
 " Upon my faith," the cat exclaim'd, 
 " The Egyptians were of all most fam'd. 
 No people ever were more wise, 
 More law-abiding or discreet — 
 None more religious 'neath the skies : 
 For that alone I think it meet 
 That Egypt should bear off the jirize." 
 
 The owl responded : " In my view, 
 To Athens the first prize is due. 
 Whoever kne^v such wit, such grace, 
 Such bravery in any race ? 
 No state more noble men e'er bore. 
 Or with less means accomplish'd more. 
 Of all the nations Greece rank'd first." 
 
 " Hold there ! " the goose in wrath outspoke, 
 " You reckon Home, then, last and worst ! 
 Perhaps, my friends, you are in Joke. 
 What nation ever ecpialFd Rome ? 
 In grandeur, glory, arts, and war, 
 Egypt and Greece can't near it come. 
 All nations it excel I'd by far : 
 The men of Rome my fav'rites are. 
 They conquer'd on both land and sea :
 
 76 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 To this, at least, you must agree." 
 
 But while the pedants thus debate, 
 They each l^ecome more obstinate, 
 Until a rat who had much wit 
 From eating learned manuscript, 
 
 Cried to the crew : — 
 " I see why each should hold his view : 
 In Egypt men adord the cat ; 
 The Athenians worshij)'d owls ; 
 The Romans petted and made fat 
 
 The goose as first of fowds. 
 As }^our self-interest points the way, 
 So your opinions turn and sway."
 
 THE CROCODILE AND STURGEON. 
 
 in 
 
 
 
 
 FABLE XXXIV. 
 
 THE CROCODILE AND STURGEON. 
 
 Upon the banks of ancient Nile, 
 Two urchins stopp'd to play a\vhile : 
 Over the waters smooth, profound, 
 They made flat pebbles skip and bound. 
 But soon an end's put to their ])lay — 
 A crocodile disturbs their fun ; 
 He seizes, crushes, swallows one,
 
 78 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 While 'totber runs away. 
 A sturgeon saw the niurd'rous deed, 
 And hasten'd oft' with all his speed — 
 From horror at the act he fled. 
 To hide deep in the river's bed. 
 But there, amidst distressing fears, 
 Strange, unexpected news he hears — 
 The crocodile w^as shedding tears ! 
 Could murderers then, Avith blood still wet, 
 For their foul deeds feel such regret ? 
 Was he then suft''ring from the stings, 
 AVhich true contrition alwa3'S brings ? 
 And can the gods have the intent 
 T' avenge, not save, the innocent ? 
 This villain surely now relents, 
 And of his wickedness repents. 
 " I'll go to him and tell him true. 
 What it imports his, soul to do." 
 The honest sturgeon then proceeds 
 To seek the monster 'midst the reeds. 
 " Yes, weep," said he, " as well you may, 
 For this foul deed you've done to-day. 
 Hemorse a balm is, and it heals 
 The pains a wounded spirit feels. 
 Then use this balm with thanks and joy. 
 You monster ! thus to eat a boy ! 
 Now that repentance you have felt ; — 
 Now that in tears your heart does melt. 
 There's yet relief from all your fears." 
 " Pooh ! " said the knave, " that I've shed tears
 
 THE CATERPILLAR. 7» 
 
 Perhaps is true ; 
 But not for what I've done to-day, 
 In that I did but one boy shiy ; 
 'Twas that another got away, 
 Which I had hop'd to swallow too ! " 
 
 Such tears as these we may believe 
 Are often shed when sinners grieve. 
 
 FABLE XXXV. 
 
 THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 One day the animals began 
 The silk-worm's wond'rous works to scan. 
 " What talent," they exclaimed, " she shows ! 
 How glossily her spinning glows ! 
 
 How rich, and smooth, and bright ! " 
 All present her nice thread extoll'd ; 
 'Twas fine, and soft, and shone like gold, 
 And well the proudest might delight. 
 
 Did we say all ? — No, one there was, 
 Who in the thread could find some flaws. 
 It was the caterpillar^ who 
 Was pleas'd to take another view. 
 With buts, and ifs she seems to doubt, 
 And hesitates at speaking out.
 
 80 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 '■%M ... ihhl /A 
 
 
 
 THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 But why should she thus disagree ? 
 " Oh," cried the fox, " I plainly see ; 
 My lady takes a contr'y view, 
 Because she is a spinner too."
 
 THE JUGGLER. 
 
 81 
 
 V. 
 
 r' 
 
 K-, 
 
 
 
 FABLE XXXVI. 
 
 THE JUGGLER. 
 
 A mountebank amidst a crowd 
 
 Tlius cried aloud — 
 " Walk \x\), ^Messieurs and try the cure 
 For every evil men endure ! 
 It is a powder wliicli will give 
 All things for ^vhicli you strive and live.
 
 82 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 To fools it gives intelligence ; 
 And to tlie guilty innocence. 
 Honors on rascals it bestows, 
 And to old women brings young beaux ; 
 Secures old men young, pretty wives ; 
 Makes madmen lead well-temper'd lives — 
 In short, whatever you would gain, 
 It will assist you to attain. 
 It is a perfect panacea." 
 
 The juggler's table I drew near. 
 This wond'rous powder to behold 
 Of which such miracles were told. 
 It was a little powder'd gold ! 
 
 à
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER. 
 
 83 
 
 
 FABLE XXXS'II. 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER. 
 
 " 'Tis over now, and I must fly ! 
 
 This odiiis si2:lit I cannot bear — 
 
 The crime, the rage, tlie misery, 
 
 That meet my vision ev'rywhere ! 
 
 To some obscure retreat I'll go, 
 
 Far from abuses, vice, and woe. 
 
 The ^vicked knaves who've cross'd my path, 
 
 I'll visit with my studied wrath.
 
 84 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Only because I'd upright be, 
 
 I've got the whole world's enmity ! 
 
 Every man, and child, and beast — 
 
 Yes ev'ry little bird, 
 
 By hate and envy stirr'd, 
 Do make of me their scand'lous feast. 
 
 Oh base ingratitude ! 
 To treat one thus who is so good. 
 How little I am understood ! 
 They'll yet regret what they have done ; 
 But only when I'm dead and gone." 
 Thus in hypochondriac strain, 
 A grasshopper did once complain. 
 O'er the world's wrongs he seem'd to groan, 
 While thinking of himself alone. 
 A comrade said, — " Holla, my dear ! 
 How did you come by that idea ? 
 Why not enjoy these fields in peace ? 
 They yield for you their rich increase. 
 
 Let the world go, 
 
 And all its woe. 
 What is't to you, I'd like to know ? 
 'Tis bad and always will be so. 
 You cannot shape it to your view 
 By all that you may say or do. 
 Besides, my friend, where can you find 
 A world more suited to your mind ? 
 And as to having this world's spite, 
 I think you are mistaken quite. 
 It is a fancy, or perchance 
 
 I
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER. 85 
 
 Even a touch of arrogance, 
 
 That springs from your o'erweening pride, 
 
 Katber than any thing beside." 
 
 The grasshopper not even deign'd 
 
 To make reply when thus arraign'd, 
 
 But forthwith from his old home flew, 
 
 To seek a new. 
 When finally two days were o'er, 
 He'd made two hundred steps or more, 
 And fancied that at last he'd found 
 The end of this world's farthest bound. 
 The land seem'd new, the people strange. 
 The wheat-fields offer'd a fine range. 
 
 And fill'd him with delight. 
 Their long stalks waving in the wind, 
 Gave welcome to his troubl'd mind; 
 
 It was a glorious sight ! 
 " Here then," he cried, " all trouble past, 
 I've found security at last. 
 No more shall enemies invade 
 My peace within this friendly shade." 
 
 But lo ! 
 "When o'er the east spread morning's glow, 
 A band of reapers came along. 
 With laugh, and jest, and merry song. 
 And 'neatli their sickles fell the grain 
 All level with the naked plain ; 
 And to the view the spot disclos'd, 
 Where our unfortunate i-eposd. 
 ^' There 'tis again ! " the insect cried,
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 " When will my foes be satisfied ? 
 Turn where I will, I'm still pursu'd, 
 For having done the world some good ! 
 Scarce have I reach'd this distant land, 
 AVhen Fm assail'd on ev'ry hand. 
 These foes come here to seek me out. 
 And in their mad, infernal rout. 
 Would almost any means employ, 
 So that they might my life annoy, 
 Yes, even their own crops destroy. 
 I really think to glut their ire, 
 They'd set their very fields on fire." 
 Then to the reapers thus he said, — 
 " Come ! let your wrath fall on my head ; 
 You've hunted me like thing accurs'd, 
 And now, Messieurs, just do your worst ! " 
 A busy worker at the sheaf. 
 By chance observ'd his mighty grief : 
 He seized him, held him up to view, 
 Then flung him where bright flowers grew 
 " Go ! " he exclaira'd, " where posies are ; 
 Go, little friend, get supper there ! "
 
 THE HEDGEHOG AND THE RABBITS. 
 
 87 
 
 FABLB XXXVni. 
 
 THE HEDGEHOG AND THE KABBITS. 
 
 Some characters are ue'er at ease, 
 And always must be makiuo^ war : 
 They like to sting, and to displease, 
 And liighly gifted at it are. 
 To me they are a perfect pest. 
 Though they be wise as Solomon, 
 And have e'en royal garments on,
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Yet their rude manners I detest. 
 The robes of vh'tue's self should be 
 
 Politeness and civility. 
 A hedgehog once of evil fame, 
 Forc'd from his home by some disgrace, 
 Unto a rabbit-warren came, 
 Burning with hate against his race. 
 He told the gentle inmates there, 
 All that he'd sufîer'd every v,diere ; 
 Against his foes exhal'd his bile. 
 And ask'd asylum for a while. 
 " With pleasure, sir," the leader said, 
 " You'll here find shelter, board, and bed. 
 Be one of us ; make free and bold ; 
 We all things here in common hold. 
 We simple, frugal people are. 
 And have no great affairs on hand ; 
 To croj^ the clover our chief care, 
 Or nibble o'er the dewy land. 
 At the first streak of early dawn, 
 We're out betimes upon the lawn. 
 The dangers from our homes to ward. 
 Each takes his turn in standing- o;uard. 
 And when the sentry gives alarm. 
 We're oiï at once to hide from harm. 
 Thus with our little ones and wives, 
 We pass our happy, cheerful lives. 
 These lives, 'tis true, are oft cut short, 
 And made of dogs and boys the sj)ort. 
 But this good reason serves to give
 
 THE HEDGEHOG AND THE RABBITS. 
 
 Why we make merry while we live. 
 We study friendship, love, and peace, 
 And our enjoyments thus increase. 
 Life we embellish all we may, 
 By kind attentions all the day. 
 If you're content with us to be, 
 Then come and Join our colony. 
 If not, why then at least you'll stay, 
 And take your dinner here to-day. 
 You'd please us with your company." 
 The hedgehog to these Avords replied — 
 " It would, indeed, give me great pride, 
 With such good people to reside." 
 Then every rabbit forward press'd, 
 And civilly their joy express'd. 
 With oiïer'd welcome to their o-uest. 
 
 o 
 
 All things went w^ell till night had come, 
 AVhen discord rent the happy home. 
 For Avhen at supper they began 
 For morro\v's work to fix the plan, 
 The hedgehog, bent to have his will. 
 At a young rabbit shot a quill. 
 " Excuse me, friend," the father says ; 
 " I'm not accustom'd to such Avays." 
 This rais'd the bristling hedgehog's ire, 
 And caus'd him right and left to fire 
 
 His angry darts. 
 First one and then another smarts, 
 Until no longer they can stand 
 The stings he gives on ev'ry hand.
 
 90 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 They gather round him aud complain. 
 '•' Messieurs/' said he, " your talk is vain ; 
 It is my nature so to do, 
 And I can't change it to please you.'''' 
 The leader then exclaim'd — " My friend, 
 If such bad manners you can't mend ; 
 If you cannot your quills suppress, 
 At least draw over them some dress ; 
 Or, failing this, then let me say, 
 From decent people stay away." 
 
 I
 
 THE WHITE ELEPHANT, 91- 
 
 FABLE XXXIX 
 
 THE WHITE ELEPHANT. 
 
 Far ill a certaiii eastern land 
 
 The people in great rev'rence stand 
 
 In presence of the elephant. 
 
 He's lodg d in style most elegant 
 
 (That is, if so the brute be white), 
 
 And for him men fierce battles fight : 
 
 For prize so rare 
 
 States go to war ; 
 He's always serv'd on golden plate ; 
 And so divine is his estate 
 That when folks meet him walking forth, 
 They bow before him to the earth. 
 
 One of these people's pets one day 
 
 (A sound clear thinker by the way) 
 
 To his conductor said : — " I i)ray 
 
 Why are such honors shown to me ? 
 
 For I am but a beast, you see." 
 
 " Ah ! you're too humble," said his guide : 
 
 "We know wdiat's due 
 
 To one like you ; 
 And all our India knows beside, 
 That when our heroes come to die. 
 Their souls into your body fly, 
 And there for some tune must endure. 
 
 Priests tell us so, 
 
 And hence we know. 
 
 The thing is sure."
 
 92 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 " What ! do you think us heroes then ? '^ 
 " Yes ; so believe our best of men." 
 " And should we, if it were not so, 
 
 Be free to go 
 And wander through the Avide domain 
 Of our own native woods again ? " 
 " Oh yes, my Lord." — " Then let me go ;; 
 For you're deceiv'd, as I can show : — 
 Our race is proud, yet still caressing; 
 Gentle, though great po^\•er possessing ; 
 We never hurt, as you may see, 
 Nor injure those less strong than we : 
 Our hearts can love, yet, from lust free^ 
 Observe the laws of chastity ; 
 And ne'er do we our honors earn 
 By loss of virtue in return. 
 Since this is so, how can you then, 
 Think we possess the souls of men ? "■
 
 THE GUILTY DOG. 
 
 9a 
 
 
 FABLE XL. 
 
 THE GUILTY DOG. 
 
 At lenirtli the awful news was spread — 
 
 Towser liad killVl the pet lamb dead ! 
 
 AVho could believe the tidings true, 
 
 That Towser such a deed would do ? 
 
 The dread of wolves, the shepherd's friend — 
 
 How could he come to such an end i
 
 94 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 And not alone a lamb he'd kill'd, 
 But her own mother's blood had spill'd ! 
 Nor was this the ^vorst of it, 
 For e'en the shepherd he had bit ! 
 If this be true, 
 Then what's the world a-comino; to ? 
 
 'Twas thus beside a brooklet's course, 
 Two sheep engaged in sad discourse. 
 It was an undisputed fact, 
 He had been captured in the act. 
 Towser himself confess'd his crime. 
 And would be punish'd in short time. 
 The shepherds had resolv'd that he 
 A warning to all dogs should be. 
 
 With triple murder being charg'd, 
 
 The case went through the court with speed, 
 
 Upon tlie crime the judge enlarged — 
 
 Tlie witnesses were all agreed, 
 
 And he was sentenced to be shot 
 
 Upon the very self-same spot 
 
 Where he had done the deed. 
 The whole farm then turn'd out to see 
 
 The execution done. 
 The lambs beseeched for clemency ; 
 
 The fanner granted none. 
 He made them take their place assign'd ; 
 The dogs took their's near by, resign'd, 
 Humbled and lorn, with drooping ears ; 
 The cheeks of some were bath'd in tears.
 
 THE GUILTY DOG. 95 
 
 All mournVl for their friend Towser's fate, 
 AdcI all ill fuu'ral silence sate, 
 
 Or sobbing cried aloud. 
 At length between two shepherds bound, 
 Towser was led upon the ground, 
 
 And thus address'd the crowd : 
 
 " Oh, you whom I no longer dare 
 
 To call my friends as formerly. 
 
 Of my example all be\vare, 
 
 And take this warnins^ word from me. 
 
 A virtuous course of fifteen years 
 
 Is now to close in blood and tears. 
 
 " My crimes are these : — at early day 
 As I near by a forest lay, 
 Guarding the ilock, a -sv'olf sprang out, 
 And bore a bleeding lamb away. 
 We fought — I put him to the rout. 
 So far so good. But when I saw 
 The mangled lambkin near me lie, 
 And felt the tempting morsel draw, 
 I could not help one taste to try. 
 
 The sidiht and smell of blood 
 Had made me ravenous for food. 
 'Tis true I hesitated long, 
 But yet my appetite was strong ; 
 And so I yielded, and at last. 
 Of the slain lamb made a repast ; 
 
 Such was the source of all my woe. 
 The mother sheep I fearVl might go
 
 «6 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 And tell the shepherd what I'd done, 
 And say that I had kill'd her son. 
 So therefore without more ado 
 To silence her, I kill'd her too. 
 
 My head was turn'd ; 
 
 With rage I burn'd ; 
 And what I did I hardly knew; 
 I even at my master flew. 
 Until at last I am brought here, 
 To terminate my sad career. 
 From this career you may take heed, 
 Lest your small faults to great ones lead. 
 The slightest wrong, however small. 
 May lead the wisest to his fall. 
 Of all false steps beware of this — 
 The first one towards a precipice."
 
 THE SAGE ADVICE. 
 
 97 
 
 
 FABLK XU. 
 
 THE SAGE ADVICE. 
 
 A ilying-fisli, tired of her lot, 
 
 Unto her mother thus complaiu'd : — 
 
 " You may be pleas'd, but I am not,
 
 98 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 To live forever thus constraiuVl. 
 
 I cannot leap into the air, 
 
 But what the eagle's waiting there. 
 And if I dive into the sea, 
 The dolphin there is after me." 
 The dame replied in accents mild, 
 " I've found in this strange world, my child, 
 
 And now must let you know, 
 For medium folks as you and I, 
 We should not ever soar too high, 
 
 Nor ever dive too low."
 
 THE DOG AND CAT. 
 
 99 
 
 KO'OGf-"f' 
 
 FABLE XLH. 
 
 THE DOG AND CAT. 
 
 'Tis of a dog the story's told, 
 
 How, being by his master sold, 
 
 At his new home he would not stay. 
 
 But broke liis chain and ran away. 
 
 Keturning to his old abode, 
 
 How great was his surprise to find 
 
 That no one there a welcome show'd.
 
 100 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Or friendliness of any kind ! 
 He found no greeting as before, 
 But with rebuffs, 
 And kicks and cuffs, 
 Was driven from tlie door. 
 Grimalkin sat with wond'ring eyes 
 As she beheld her friend's surprise, 
 And ventured this remark to make : 
 " That you and I are lov'd, 'tis true ; 
 But what a fool, indeed, are you, 
 To think we're priz'd for oiw sake ! "
 
 THE CANARY AND THE CROW. 
 
 101 
 
 FABLE XLIII. 
 
 THE CANARY AND THE CROAV. 
 
 Together were two cages bimg, 
 
 For music and for show ; 
 lu one a fine canary sung, 
 
 In t'other screecird a crow. 
 One charm'd the household with his song, 
 The other vex'd it with his cries ; 
 Forever cawing all day long, 
 He caird for bread, and cakes, and pies.
 
 102 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 And people fed him to bis fill, 
 As the best way to keep him still. 
 Loud rang the sweet canary's strain, 
 He ask'd for naught, and sung in vain. 
 For none supplied his pressing needs, 
 Or gave him water, or his seeds. 
 
 Those most delighted by his chants. 
 Were quite oblivious of his wants. 
 They liked him well enough, 'twas true, 
 But never gave him what was due. 
 At last one day they found him dead. 
 Merely for want of being fed. 
 " Alas ! " folks cried, " how can we spare 
 A songster so beyond compare ! 
 How could he die ? — a bird so rare ! " 
 
 But while they thus express surprise, 
 The crow keeps up his stunning cries, 
 And still is fed on cakes and pies. 
 
 1
 
 THE MOXKEY WITH A MAGIC LAXTERX. 
 
 103 
 
 .éêik\ 
 
 -M.i'iiif' 
 
 ^'âk& 
 
 FABLE XLIY. 
 
 THE MOXKEY WITH A MAGIC LAXTERX 
 
 All geDtlemeu who verses write, 
 111 style inaofiiificeiit and li-i-aiid, 
 But Avlu) can ne'er a line indite, 
 AYliicli coiniiion folks may understand. 
 Please listen to the tale I tell,
 
 104 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 And on its meaning 23onder well. 
 A man ^vllose business 'twas to show 
 
 A magic lantern round, 
 Had a fine monkey, Light Jacqueau, 
 The nicest trickster ever found. 
 He could dance, and leap, and spring ; 
 Was great at tight-rope balancing ; 
 A thousand tricks this Jacqueau knew, 
 Which custom to his master drew. 
 
 One day his master went away. 
 
 To celebrate some holiday, 
 
 And left him at the inn to stay. 
 
 There entered then this monkey's head^ 
 
 The strangest fancy ever bred : 
 
 For what does he but straightway go. 
 
 To cats and dogs, 
 
 To hens and hogs, 
 
 To geese and ducks, 
 
 And turkey-cocks, 
 To come and see the mastic show. 
 
 " Walk in. Messieurs ; I nothing ask ; 
 Believe me, 'tis a pleasing task ! " 
 
 They take their seats ; the lantern's brought ; 
 He makes a speech most highly wrought. 
 Which — as we say in modern lore — 
 Was welcom'd with a perfect roar. 
 Encouraged by the warm applause. 
 The window shutters then he draws, 
 Into the lantern puts a screen
 
 TUE MONKEY WITH A MAGIC LANTERN. 105 
 
 As he had oft his master seen — 
 
 " Here you may see," said he, " the sun, 
 
 His pristine glory just begun ; 
 
 And presently the moon you'll see, 
 
 And the first pair's felicity, 
 
 Adam and Eve, and all our race — 
 
 Behold what beauty ! and what grace ! 
 
 Was ever anything so fine ? 
 And here you'll see a sight divine." 
 
 But how could they behold the sight, 
 Where all was close and dark as night ? 
 However much their eyes they strain, 
 And strive to see, they strive in vain. 
 " My faith ! " tli' impatient cat exclaim'd, 
 " Of all the wonders he has nam'd — 
 Of all the sights he's dwelt upon, 
 I have not seen a single one." 
 " Neither have I," the dog replied ; 
 " I've not a single thing descried." 
 The turkey something saw, he thought, 
 But could not tell exactly what. 
 Yet little this concern'd Jacqueau, 
 AVIk) rattled on like Cicero. 
 His style was good and masterly ; 
 His language choice, and diction free ; 
 But one thing he'd forgotten (juite — 
 Althouirh he work'd his lantern riçrht, 
 He had not put therein a light !
 
 106 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 
 FABLE XLV. 
 
 THREE FORTUNE-SEEKERS. 
 
 Au ermine, beaver, aud youug boar, 
 AVho had no fortune 'neath the sun. 
 But Avho had hopes of getting one, 
 Set out the countr}^ to explore. 
 At last, their many trials o'er, 
 They reach'd a most delightful laud.
 
 THE THREE FORTUNE-HUNTERS. 107 
 
 Where beauties shone ou ev'ry hand, 
 
 In wealth of meadows, orchards, woods, 
 
 And all the treasures of the iloods. 
 
 Our pilgrims seeiug scenes so fair, 
 
 Were in a perfect ecstasy, 
 
 As ^neas and his Trojans were, 
 
 With their first view of Italy. 
 
 But all this happy land, alas ! 
 
 Lay circled by a black morass. 
 
 Where frightful lizards, snakes, and toads 
 
 Were wont to make their foul abodes. 
 
 Brought to a sto^J, they take a view, 
 
 And ponder what they're next to do. 
 
 The ermine trying with her paw. 
 
 Decides at once that she'll withdraw. 
 
 " My friends," said she, " take my advice, 
 
 Tliis land is not so very nice. 
 
 To reach it we must cross the sloucrh. 
 
 And that my coat ^vould ruin so. 
 
 That I should die. 
 Some other country let us try." 
 *' Have patience, dear," the beaver said ; 
 " These things requii-e a little head. 
 We need not always get a stain. 
 In coming at the point we'd gain. 
 As I'm a mason, I can throw, 
 In fifteen davs o'er this foul slouch 
 A bridge b}' which we can pass o'er. 
 And harmless reach the farther shore." 
 " In fifteen days ! " exclaim'd the boar ;
 
 108 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 "The tiling much sooner can be done; 
 I'll show you how in less than one." 
 Then in he leaps into the slime, 
 Amidst the lizards, toads, and snakes ; 
 Most lustily his way he makes. 
 And flounders over in short time. 
 Arriv'd upon the other side. 
 He shook the mud off from his hide, 
 And then with pompous, proud display. 
 Back to his friends this scorn he hurl'd : — 
 " If you would prosper in this world, 
 You must, as I've done, push your Avay."
 
 THE PERSECUTED POODLE. 
 
 109 
 
 
 FABLE XLVl. 
 
 THE PERSECUTED POODLE. 
 
 A shaggy poodle being shorn 
 So as to have a lion's mane, 
 Could hardly longer well be borne, 
 He so conceited was and vain ; 
 F( )r vanity Avill sure deceive
 
 110 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 All who her flattery receive. 
 
 We ou this liead a story know. 
 
 It came to pass, not long ago. 
 
 That after long and bloody strife, 
 
 AVhere many a lion lost his life. 
 
 The elephant the victor was. 
 
 Who thereupon decreed these laws : — 
 
 That brawls and blood-shed to prevent, 
 
 All into exile must be sent 
 
 Who civil war and strife foment ; 
 
 And never more should lions come 
 
 AVithin his realms to make their home. 
 
 The lions, overcome, subdu'd. 
 
 And by their enemies pursu'd. 
 
 Were hunted down on ev'ry hand, 
 
 And forc'd to fly and leave the land. 
 
 Their fate admitted no relief ; 
 
 But still they made the best of it. 
 
 They kept their courage with their grief. 
 
 And learn'd in patience to submit. 
 
 But ^vith our poodle 'twas not so : 
 
 The dread decree fill'd him with woe. 
 
 " Oh, am I then," he moaning cried, 
 
 "No lono:er sufïerVl here to dwell? 
 
 Must I in other lands reside, 
 
 Far from the scenes I've lov'd so well ? 
 
 And in my old age too ! 
 Oh barb'rous king to drive me forth 
 From this dear spot that gave me birth, 
 
 Wliich I no more shall view !
 
 THE PERSECUTED POODLE, lU 
 
 I go unaided and in gloom, 
 
 In foreign lands to seek a tomb; 
 
 And even that may be denied ! 
 
 And all to please this tyrant's pride, 
 
 AVbo only thus is satisfied ! " 
 
 A spaniel heard the pug complain, 
 
 And touch'd at heart "with so much pain, 
 
 Ask'd why he felt obliged to ily. 
 
 '' Why ? " said the pug, " do you ask ivJiij ? 
 
 Just look and see that hard decree, 
 
 How cruel and severe on me ! " 
 
 The spaniel cried : — 
 "That law with lioii^ has to do ; 
 But what concern is that to you f " 
 
 The pug replied : — 
 " Why, am not / a lion too ? "
 
 112 
 
 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 FABLE XLVII. 
 
 THE DOVE AND THE MAGPIE. 
 
 Once on a time a dove bad built 
 Her nest near where a magpie dwelt. 
 It must be own'd the neio-hborhood 
 Could not be reckon'd very good. 
 But that is neither here nor there ; 
 We simply state things as they were. 
 In the dwelling of the dove.
 
 THE DOVE AND THE MAGPIE. 113 
 
 Ev'rything was peace an<l love, 
 
 AVhile in t'other all was strife — 
 
 Husband fighting with the \vife, 
 
 Broken esffrs and wretched life. 
 Twas one da}' after being beat, 
 The magpie sought the dove's retreat, 
 
 Where she chatter'd, scolded, cried 
 Told all she knew and more beside. 
 And with her clamor fill'd the house 
 About the failings of her spouse. 
 *' He is exacting, hard, and proud," 
 
 She shriek'd aloud, 
 '' x\nd passionate and Jealous too ; 
 
 And yet he goes 
 
 To see the crows, 
 As I can well attest to you." 
 And in her auger she gave vent 
 To many thino-s of like intent. 
 " But you,^' the gentle dove replied, 
 " Have you no faults on your side ? " 
 " 1 liave,^^ the pie resum'd, "'tis true; 
 And I may say, betAveen us t^^■o, 
 In my behavior I've been light. 
 And sometimes shown a deal of spite. 
 I've often, too, play'd the coquette, 
 Merely to see him writhe and fret." 
 (Pies hardly would this fault admit 
 If they thought doves would credit it.) 
 " But what of that i I'd like to know, 
 Don't other l)irds do even so ? "
 
 114 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 " Oil no, indeed," the dove rejoined ; 
 
 " You'll never peace in that way find. 
 
 If thus you irritate }'our mate, 
 
 You give him cause for all his hate." 
 
 "/give him cause ! " the pie exclaim VI, 
 
 With anger at the dove inflam'd, 
 
 " That's very bright, upon my word ! 
 
 Such impudence ^vho ever heard ? 
 
 When I come here for sympathy. 
 
 You set about abusing me ! 
 
 Keep your advice at home, say I, 
 
 And so, impertinence, good bye ! " 
 
 Quite too indignant to say more. 
 
 She flung impatient from the door. 
 
 Enraged to find herself oppos'd, 
 
 By her own faults which she'd disclos'd.
 
 THE SQUIRREL, THE DOG, AND THE FOX. 
 
 11» 
 
 •'•'. OR'.NB/ILl 
 
 FABLE XLVm. 
 
 THE SQUIRREL, THE DOG, AND THE FOX. 
 
 A dog and squirrel liaiid in liund. 
 
 Where one time trav'ling tliroiigli the land, 
 
 AVhen they were caught as night came down. 
 
 In a large forest far fi"om town. 
 
 No friendly inn was there t'afford
 
 116 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Its hospitable bed aud board. 
 So in an old and hollow tree, 
 
 The dog for shelter search'd, 
 While his good friend, the squirrel, he 
 
 Among the branches pereh'd. 
 Towards midnight, at that solemn hour 
 When to their crimes sly murd'rers creep^ 
 When somnolence asserts its power, 
 And our two friends were sunk in sleep, 
 Lo ! an old fox athii'st for blood. 
 Came prowling through the silent wood. 
 He saw the squirrel on a limb, 
 
 And thus accosted him : — 
 " My friend, I pray you pardon me, 
 I would not so intrusive be 
 As to disturb your sweet repose, 
 But that I'm dying to disclose 
 My true heart-felt felicity 
 
 To find that you and I 
 In blood relationship are nigh : 
 We're cousins of the first degree ! 
 For your good mother, I've heard said^ 
 Was sister to my worthy sire. 
 Who bade me, on his dying bed, 
 For you, his nephew, to inquire. 
 And give you half the legacy 
 
 He left for me. 
 So haste, my friend, come down I pray, 
 And have your portion right away. 
 I burn to meet you face to face.
 
 THE SQUIRREL, THE DOG, AND THE FOX. 117 
 
 More fully to explain tlie case. 
 
 If I, like yon, conld climb a tree, 
 
 Indeed, you well may credit me, 
 
 I had been witli you long ere this, 
 
 To show how great my pleasure is." 
 
 Now squirrels though not bred in schools. 
 
 Are not by any means all fools ; 
 
 And ours was shrewd enough to see 
 
 Quite through the fox's knavery. 
 
 So he replied in tones most kind : — 
 
 " I am delighted, friend, to find 
 
 That we so near related are. 
 
 Your happiness I fully share ; 
 
 And I shall hurry to descend. 
 
 But ere I come I have a friend 
 
 That I would introduce to you. 
 
 He is a near relation too : 
 
 One who is all in all to me, 
 
 Whom you'll be glad, perhaps, to see ; 
 
 He's sleeping in that hole below ; 
 
 Knock at the door and call him out : 
 
 He'll warmly welcome you, I know. 
 
 On learning what you've come about." 
 
 Old Reynard hurries to the door. 
 
 Hoping to get one squirrel more ; 
 
 But on the instant that lie knocks, 
 
 The dog, awak'd from slumbers sound, 
 
 Springs out, and at a single bound. 
 
 Upon the sj^ot kills Mister Fox. 
 
 The offices of a true friend
 
 118 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 May not aloue our life defend ; 
 No greater blessing can there be, 
 Than solace from his sympathy. 
 
 FABLE XLIX. 
 
 KING ALPHONSO. 
 
 A certain kins; who held his rei2:n 
 Where Tagus mingles with the main, 
 Alplionso called, surnam'd The Wise — 
 (Not so surnam'd because discreet. 
 But just because he thought it meet 
 
 To scan the skies) — 
 Knew much of all phenomena. 
 And was a great astronomer. 
 More of the heavens he came to know, 
 Than of his- kingdom here below; 
 For when to council call'd, he'd soon 
 Run off to view the sun or moon. 
 At length one day when going to 
 His telescope to take a view, 
 The gentry round him he address'd : — 
 ■" Messieurs ! I am at last possess'd 
 Of instruments, by which, to-night, 
 I hope to see the wond'rous sight 
 Of men within our satellite ! " 
 " No doubt you will," a courtier cried, 
 ^' And many other things beside." 
 Meantime a poor street-beggar bow'd, 
 And ask'd for pennies from the crowd.
 
 DEATHS CHOICE OF PRIME MINISTER. 119 
 
 The king could neither hear nor see 
 Tlie man's appeal for charity ; 
 But all absoi'b'd pursuxl his way, 
 Unheeding wliat the man might say. 
 Yet still the beggar humbly pray'd ; 
 Beseeching held his hand for aid, 
 And much the king did importune. 
 But still the king with thoughts on high, 
 Made ever still this same reply : — 
 " I shall see men within the moon.'" 
 At last the poor man in distress, 
 Seiz'd on the monarch's royal dress, 
 
 And gravely said : — 
 "You'll find men here, men who need bread: 
 You need not look for them up there ; 
 They're here, around you, ev'rywhere. 
 Tlds realm God gave you for a boon, 
 Not one up yonder in the moon." 
 
 FABLE L. 
 
 DEATH'S CHOICE OF PRIME MINISTER. 
 
 Once on a time there Avas a king 
 Who wish'd his state more flourishinsf. 
 In hell he reai-'d his awful tlirone, 
 (As King of Terrors he is known) 
 And, as the case did nuicli impoit, 
 He call'd tocjether his whole c<nirt. 
 The question was what plague should be 
 The chief aid to his majest}'. 
 First, from the lowest hell there came
 
 120 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Three spirits of most dreadful fame, 
 
 Fever, Gout, and War. 
 Death gave them welcome ; for, of all 
 The ills that plague our earthly ball. 
 
 These most dreaded are. 
 Then Pest steps for^vard — all agree 
 That he too, has great potency. 
 Then comes a Doctor, at whose name 
 'Twas evident he had a claim. 
 Which caused e'en Death himself to doubt 
 How his selection must turn out. 
 But when the Vices all advance. 
 Death could no longer hesitate 
 Which most his service would enhance, 
 Or which was his true candidate : 
 Vice of all vice — Intemperance — 
 He chose prime minister of state. 
 
 FABLE LI. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 To set out ere the dawn of day, 
 
 Groping in darkness for the way, 
 
 Caring for naught, nor making quest 
 
 If going North, South, East, or West ; — 
 
 From fall to fall to stumble on 
 
 Till near one-third the course be run : 
 
 Then, as the dark clouds gather round. 
 
 To enter on unstable ground. 
 
 Yet pushing onwards, though quite lost, 
 
 'Midst thick'niug doubts, and tempest tost,
 
 CLOSING LINES, 121 
 
 Witli no sure aim, no end in view. 
 And seldom knowing what to do ; — 
 Driven, forc'd on, and in great stress, 
 Seeking some spot, some safe recess, 
 Where to arrive all out of breath. 
 
 And there to creep 
 
 To the last sleep — 
 Such then is Birth, and Life, and Death; 
 This is the way we journey on : — 
 
 God's will l)e done ! 
 
 CLOSING LINES. 
 
 *'Tis done : the lyre is mute ; 
 My labors here must have an end ; 
 Though still the Muse might Avrongs impute, 
 That should perchance our manners mend, 
 (If she but had an abler friend). 
 
 But no ; her work would prove in vain ; 
 For the world's folly, int'rest, pride. 
 Will e'er bring trouble in their train, 
 However much they be decried. 
 'Tis vain that philosoi)hic sects 
 May censure man for his defects ; 
 They waste their wisdom and their rhymes». 
 Let the world wag ! Go with the times ! 
 
 Or live retir'd, content and free, 
 
 In some deep-hid obscurity. 
 
 There, what could fail us that might bless
 
 122 FLORIAN'S FABLES. 
 
 Our lives with perfect happiness ? 
 
 Save gentle peace, a tranquil lot ; 
 
 Our only wish to be forgot ; 
 
 Our sole endeavor how to shun 
 
 The ills by which we're prey'd upon ; 
 
 With wealth enough with friends to share. 
 
 But not to waken envy there. 
 
 THE END

 
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