Æsop's fables in words of one syllable

One hot day, a stag came to quench his thirst at a lake, and stood there to scan his shape from head to foot, as it shone in the clear pool. “What strength is there,” said he, “in this fine pair of horns which branch out with so much grace from each side of my head! If the rest of my form were but of a piece with my horns, I would give place to none. But, ah, me! how slight are these poor legs of mine. I would as lief have none at all.” Just then some men, and a pack of hounds that had been on the scent, made to the spot where the stag stood. Off he went, at full speed; and those legs, with which he found so much fault, soon took him out of the reach of hounds and men. But the horns which he was so vain of, by ill luck, caught in the boughs of a tree, and held him there till the hounds came to pull him down.