A HUNDRED FABLES
OF
LA FONTAINE
WITH PICTURES BY PERCY J. BILLINGHURST
LONDON
JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY
SECOND EDITION
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
CONTENTS
| A |
| Page |
| The Acorn and the Pumpkin | 128 |
| The Animals Sick of the Plague | 200 |
| The Ape | 90 |
| The Ass and his Masters | 34 |
| The Ass and the Dog | 120 |
| The Ass and the Little Dog | 18 |
| The Ass Carrying Relics | 26 |
| The Ass Dressed in the Lion's Skin | 166 |
| The Ass Loaded with Sponges | 72 |
| B |
| The Bat and the Two Weasels | 66 |
| The Battle of the Rats and the Weasels | 198 |
| The Bear and the Two Companions | 194 |
| The Bird Wounded by an Arrow | 68 |
| C |
| The Camel and the Floating Sticks | 82 |
| The Carter in the Mire | 104 |
| The Cat and the Fox | 138 |
| The Cat and the Two Sparrows | 150 |
| The Cock and the Fox | 76 |
| The Council held by the Rats | 62 |
| The Countryman and the Serpent | 102 |
| The Cunning Fox | 88 |
| D |
| Death and the Woodman | 56 |
| The Dog and his Master's Dinner | 110 |
| The Dog whose Ears were Cropped | 144 |
| The Dove and the Ant | 74 |
| The Dragon with many Heads | 54 |
| E |
| The Eagle and the Magpie | 94 |
| The Eagle and the Owl | 184 |
| The Ears of the Hare | 22 |
| The Earthen Pot and the Iron Pot | 192 |
| Education | 122 |
| F |
| The Fool who Sold Wisdom | 130 |
| The Fox, the Flies, and the Hedgehog | 92 |
| The Fox, the Monkey, and the Animals | 98 |
| The Fox and the Turkeys | 172 |
| The Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse | 170 |
| G |
| The Grasshopper and the Ant | 2 |
| H |
| The Hare and the Partridge | 28 |
| The Head and the Tail of the Serpent | 108 |
| The Heifer, the Goat, and the Sheep | 48 |
| The Heron | 106 |
| The Hog, the Goat, and the Sheep | 116 |
| The Hornets and the Bees | 58 |
| The Horse and the Wolf | 182 |
| J |
| The Joker and the Fishes | 112 |
| L |
| The Lion and the Ass Hunting | 8 |
| The Lion and the Hunter | 96 |
| The Lion and the Gnat | 70 |
| The Lion and the Monkey | 178 |
| The Lion beaten by the Man | 78 |
| The Lioness and the Bear | 146 |
| The Lion Going to War | 30 |
| The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox | 196 |
| The Lobster and her Daughter | 162 |
| M |
| The Man and his Image | 52 |
| The Man and the Wooden God | 20 |
| The Man and the Owl | 148 |
| The Miser and the Monkey | 186 |
| The Monkey and the Cat | 140 |
| The Monkey and the Leopard | 126 |
| N |
| Nothing too Much | 136 |
| O |
| The Oak and the Reed | 60 |
| The Old Cat and the Young Mouse | 154 |
| The Old Man and the Ass | 32 |
| The Old Woman and her Servants | 24 |
| The Oyster and the Litigants | 132 |
| P |
| Philomet and Progne | 80 |
| The Ploughman and his Sons | 164 |
| Q |
| The Quarrel of the Dogs and Cats | 158 |
| R |
| The Rat and the Elephant | 118 |
| The Rat and the Oyster | 114 |
| The Rat Retired from the World | 86 |
| S |
| The Shepherd and his Dog | 44 |
| The Shepherd and his Flock | 38 |
| The Shepherd and the Lion | 180 |
| The Shepherd and the Sea | 16 |
| The Sick Stag | 156 |
| The Spider and the Swallow | 142 |
| The Stag and the Vine | 190 |
| The Sun and the Frogs | 100 |
| The Swan and the Cook | 12 |
| T |
| The Thieves and the Ass | 4 |
| The Tortoise and the Two Ducks | 40 |
| The Two Asses | 42 |
| The Two Bulls and the Frog | 64 |
| The Two Dogs and the Dead Ass | 124 |
| The Two Goats | 152 |
| The Two Mules | 46 |
| The Two Rats, the Fox, and the Egg | 50 |
| V |
| The Vultures and the Pigeons | 188 |
| W |
| The Wallet | 174 |
| The Wax-Candle | 36 |
| The Weasel in the Granary | 14 |
| The Wolf Accusing the Fox | 6 |
| The Wolf and the Fox | 160 |
| The Wolf and the Lean Dog | 134 |
| The Wolf, the Goat, and the Kid | 84 |
| The Wolf turned Shepherd | 10 |
| The Woodman and Mercury | 176 |
| The Woods and the Woodman | 168 |
A HUNDRED FABLES OF
LA FONTAINE
The Grasshopper and the Ant.
A grasshopper gay
Sang the summer away,
And found herself poor
By the winter's first roar.
Of meat or of bread,
Not a morsel she had!
So a-begging she went,
To her neighbour the ant,
For the loan of some wheat,
Which would serve her to eat,
Till the season came round.
"I will pay you," she saith,
"On an animal's faith,
Double weight in the pound
Ere the harvest be bound."
The ant is a friend
(And here she might mend)
Little given to lend.
"How spent you the summer?"
Quoth she, looking shame
At the borrowing dame.
"Night and day to each comer
I sang, if you please."
"You sang! I'm at ease;
For 'tis plain at a glance,
Now, ma'am, you must dance."
THE GRASSHOPPER and THE ANT.
The Thieves and the Ass.
Two thieves, pursuing their profession,
Had of a donkey got possession,
Whereon a strife arose,
Which went from words to blows.
The question was, to sell, or not to sell;
But while our sturdy champions fought it well,
Another thief, who chanced to pass,
With ready wit rode off the ass.
This ass is, by interpretation,
Some province poor, or prostrate nation.
The thieves are princes this and that,
On spoils and plunder prone to fat,—
As those of Austria, Turkey, Hungary.
(Instead of two, I've quoted three—
Enough of such commodity.)
These powers engaged in war all,
Some fourth thief stops the quarrel,
According all to one key,
By riding off the donkey
THE THIEVES and THE ASS.
The Wolf Accusing the Fox.
A wolf, affirming his belief
That he had suffer'd by a thief,
Brought up his neighbour fox—
Of whom it was by all confess'd,
His character was not the best—
To fill the prisoner's box.
As judge between these vermin,
A monkey graced the ermine;
And truly other gifts of Themis
Did scarcely seem his;
For while each party plead his cause,
Appealing boldly to the laws,
And much the question vex'd,
Our monkey sat perplex'd.
Their words and wrath expended,
Their strife at length was ended;
When, by their malice taught,
The judge this judgment brought:
"Your characters, my friends, I long have known,
As on this trial clearly shown;
And hence I fine you both—the grounds at large
To state would little profit—
You wolf, in short, as bringing groundless charge,
You fox, as guilty of it."
Come at it right or wrong, the judge opined
No other than a villain could be fined
THE WOLF accusing THE FOX before THE MONKEY.
The Lion and the Ass Hunting.
The king of animals, with royal grace,
Would celebrate his birthday in the chase.
'Twas not with bow and arrows,
To slay some wretched sparrows;
The lion hunts the wild boar of the wood,
The antlered deer and stags, the fat and good.
This time, the king, t' insure success,
Took for his aide-de-camp an ass,
A creature of stentorian voice,
That felt much honour'd by the choice.
The lion hid him in a proper station,
And order'd him to bray, for his vocation,
Assured that his tempestuous cry
The boldest beasts would terrify,
And cause them from their lairs to fly.
And, sooth, the horrid noise the creature made
Did strike the tenants of the wood with dread;
And, as they headlong fled,
All fell within the lion's ambuscade.
"Has not my service glorious
Made both of us victorious?"
Cried out the much-elated ass.
"Yes," said the lion; "bravely bray'd!
Had I not known yourself and race,
I should have been myself afraid!"
The donkey, had he dared,
With anger would have flared
At this retort, though justly made;
For who could suffer boasts to pass
So ill-befitting to an ass?
THE LION and THE ASS hunting.
The Wolf turned Shepherd.
A wolf, whose gettings from the flocks
Began to be but few,
Bethought himself to play the fox
In character quite new.
A shepherd's hat and coat he took,
A cudgel for a crook,
Nor e'en the pipe forgot:
And more to seem what he was not,
Himself upon his hat he wrote,
"I'm Willie, shepherd of these sheep."
His person thus complete,
His crook in upraised feet,
The impostor Willie stole upon the keep.
The real Willie, on the grass asleep,
Slept there, indeed, profoundly,
His dog and pipe slept, also soundly;
His drowsy sheep around lay.
As for the greatest number,
Much bless'd the hypocrite their slumber,
And hoped to drive away the flock,
Could he the shepherd's voice but mock.
He thought undoubtedly he could.
He tried: the tone in which he spoke,
Loud echoing from the wood,
The plot and slumber broke;
Sheep, dog, and man awoke.
The wolf, in sorry plight,
In hampering coat bedight,
Could neither run nor fight.
There's always leakage of deceit
Which makes it never safe to cheat.
Whoever is a wolf had better
Keep clear of hypocritic fetter.
THE WOLF turned SHEPHERD.
The Swan and the Cook.
The pleasures of a poultry yard
Were by a swan and gosling shared.
The swan was kept there for his looks,
The thrifty gosling for the cooks;
The first the garden's pride, the latter
A greater favourite on the platter.
They swam the ditches, side by side,
And oft in sports aquatic vied,
Plunging, splashing far and wide,
With rivalry ne'er satisfied.
One day the cook, named Thirsty John,
Sent for the gosling, took the swan
In haste his throat to cut,
And put him in the pot.
The bird's complaint resounded
In glorious melody;
Whereat the cook, astounded
His sad mistake to see,
Cried, "What! make soup of a musician!
Please God, I'll never set such dish on.
No, no; I'll never cut a throat
That sings so sweet a note."
'Tis thus, whatever peril may alarm us,
Sweet words will never harm us.
THE SWAN AND THE COOK.
The Weasel in the Granary.
A weasel through a hole contrived to squeeze,
(She was recovering from disease,)
Which led her to a farmer's hoard.
There lodged, her wasted form she cherish'd;
Heaven knows the lard and victuals stored
That by her gnawing perish'd!
Of which the consequence
Was sudden corpulence.
A week or so was past,
When having fully broken fast,
A noise she heard, and hurried
To find the hole by which she came,
And seem'd to find it not the same;
So round she ran, most sadly flurried;
And, coming back, thrust out her head,
Which, sticking there, she said,
"This is the hole, there can't be blunder:
What makes it now so small, I wonder,
Where, but the other day, I pass'd with ease?"
A rat her trouble sees,
And cries, "But with an emptier belly;
You enter'd lean, and lean must sally."
THE WEASEL IN THE GRANARY.
The Shepherd and the Sea.
A shepherd, neighbour to the sea,
Lived with his flock contentedly.
His fortune, though but small,
Was safe within his call.
At last some stranded kegs of gold
Him tempted, and his flock he sold,
Turn'd merchant, and the ocean's waves
Bore all his treasure—to its caves.
Brought back to keeping sheep once more,
But not chief shepherd, as before,
When sheep were his that grazed the shore,
He who, as Corydon or Thyrsis,
Might once have shone in pastoral verses,
Bedeck'd with rhyme and metre,
Was nothing now but Peter.
But time and toil redeem'd in full
Those harmless creatures rich in wool;
And as the lulling winds, one day,
The vessels wafted with a gentle motion,
"Want you," he cried, "more money, Madam Ocean?
Address yourself to some one else, I pray;
You shall not get it out of me!
I know too well your treachery."
This tale's no fiction, but a fact,
Which, by experience back'd,
Proves that a single penny,
At present held, and certain,
Is worth five times as many,
Of Hope's, beyond the curtain;
That one should be content with his condition,
And shut his ears to counsels of ambition,
More faithless than the wreck-strown sea, and which
Doth thousands beggar where it makes one rich,—
Inspires the hope of wealth, in glorious forms,
And blasts the same with piracy and storms.
THE SHEPHERD and THE SEA.
The Ass and the Little Dog.
One's native talent from its course
Cannot be turned aside by force;
But poorly apes the country clown
The polish'd manners of the town.
Their Maker chooses but a few
With power of pleasing to imbue;
Where wisely leave it we, the mass,
Unlike a certain fabled ass,
That thought to gain his master's blessing
By jumping on him and caressing.
"What!" said the donkey in his heart;
"Ought it to be that puppy's part
To lead his useless life
In full companionship
With master and his wife,
While I must bear the whip?
What doth the cur a kiss to draw?
Forsooth, he only gives his paw!
If that is all there needs to please,
I'll do the thing myself, with ease."
Possess'd with this bright notion,—
His master sitting on his chair,
At leisure in the open air,—
He ambled up, with awkward motion,
And put his talents to the proof;
Upraised his bruised and batter'd hoof,
And, with an amiable mien,
His master patted on the chin,
The action gracing with a word—
The fondest bray that e'er was heard!
O, such caressing was there ever?
Or melody with such a quaver?
"Ho! Martin! here! a club, a club bring!"
Out cried the master, sore offended.
So Martin gave the ass a drubbing,—
And so the comedy was ended.
THE ASS and the LITTLE DOG.
The Man and the Wooden God.
A pagan kept a god of wood,—
A sort that never hears,
Though furnish'd well with ears,—
From which he hoped for wondrous good.
The idol cost the board of three;
So much enrich'd was he
With vows and offerings vain,
With bullocks garlanded and slain:
No idol ever had, as that,
A kitchen quite so full and fat.
But all this worship at his shrine
Brought not from this same block divine
Inheritance, or hidden mine,
Or luck at play, or any favour.
Nay, more, if any storm whatever
Brew'd trouble here or there,
The man was sure to have his share,
And suffer in his purse,
Although the god fared none the worse.
At last, by sheer impatience bold,
The man a crowbar seizes,
His idol breaks in pieces,
And finds it richly stuff'd with gold.
"How's this? Have I devoutly treated,"
Says he, "your godship, to be cheated?
Now leave my house, and go your way,
And search for altars where you may."
THE MAN AND THE WOODEN GOD.
The Ears of the Hare.
Some beast with horns did gore
The lion; and that sovereign dread,
Resolved to suffer so no more,
Straight banish'd from his realm, 'tis said,
All sorts of beasts with horns—
Rams, bulls, goats, stags, and unicorns.
Such brutes all promptly fled.
A hare, the shadow of his ears perceiving,
Could hardly help believing
That some vile spy for horns would take them,
And food for accusation make them.
"Adieu," said he, "my neighbour cricket;
I take my foreign ticket.
My ears, should I stay here,
Will turn to horns, I fear;
And were they shorter than a bird's,
I fear the effect of words."
"These horns!" the cricket answer'd; "why,
God made them ears who can deny?"
"Yes," said the coward, "still they'll make them horns,
And horns, perhaps, of unicorns!
In vain shall I protest,
With all the learning of the schools:
My reasons they will send to rest
In th' Hospital of Fools."
THE EARS OF THE HARE.
The Old Woman and Her Servants.