"Well, well!" he resumed, "if I cannot compel circumstances to my will, I can at least adapt my will to circumstances. I decide to remain. 'Life'-as a certain eminent philosopher in England wilt say, whenever there shall be an England to say it in-'is the definite combination of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and successive, in correspondence with external co-existences and sequences.' I have, fortunately, a few years of this before me yet; and I suppose I can permit my surroundings to alter me into anything I choose."
And he did; but what a choice!
I should say that the lesson hereby imparted is one of contentment combined with science.
VIII.
A caterpillar had crawled painfully to the top of a hop-pole, and not finding anything there to interest him, began to think of descending.
"Now," soliloquized he, "if I only had a pair of wings, I should be able to manage it very nicely."
So saying, he turned himself about to go down, but the heat of his previous exertion, and that of the sun, had by this time matured him into a butterfly.
"Just my luck!" he growled, "I never wish for anything without getting it. I did not expect this when I came out this morning, and have nothing prepared. But I suppose I shall have to stand it."
So he spread his pinions and made for the first open flower he saw. But a spider happened to be spending the summer in that vegetable, and it was not long before Mr. Butterfly was wishing himself back atop of that pole, a simple caterpillar.
He had at last the pleasure of being denied a desire.
Hæc fabula docet that it is not a good plan to call at houses without first ascertaining who is at home there.
IX.
It is related of a certain Tartar priest that, being about to sacrifice a pig, he observed tears in the victim's eyes.
"Now, I'd like to know what is the matter with you?" he asked.
"Sir," replied the pig, "if your penetration were equal to that of the knife you hold, you would know without inquiring; but I don't mind telling you. I weep because I know I shall be badly roasted."
"Ah," returned the priest, meditatively, having first killed the pig, "we are all pretty much alike: it is the bad roasting that frightens us. Mere death has no terrors."
From this narrative learn that even priests sometimes get hold of only half a truth.
X.
A dog being very much annoyed by bees, ran, quite accidentally, into an empty barrel lying on the ground, and looking out at the bung-hole, addressed his tormenters thus:
"Had you been temperate, stinging me only one at a time, you might have got a good deal of fun out of me. As it is, you have driven me into a secure retreat; for I can snap you up as fast as you come in through the bung-hole. Learn from this the folly of intemperate zeal."
When he had concluded, he awaited a reply. There wasn't any reply; for the bees had never gone near the bung-hole; they went in the same way as he did, and made it very warm for him.
The lesson of this fable is that one cannot stick to his pure reason while quarrelling with bees.
XI.
A fox and a duck having quarrelled about the ownership of a frog, agreed to refer the dispute to a lion. After hearing a great deal of argument, the lion opened his mouth to speak.
"I am very well aware," interrupted the duck, "what your decision is. It is that by our own showing the frog belongs to neither of us, and you will eat him yourself. But please remember that lions do not like frogs."
"To me," exclaimed the fox, "it is perfectly clear that you will give the frog to the duck, the duck to me, and take me yourself. Allow me to state certain objections to-"
"I was about to remark," said the lion, "that while you were disputing, the cause of contention had hopped away. Perhaps you can procure another frog."
To point out the moral of this fable would be to offer a gratuitous insult to the acuteness of the reader.
XII.
An ass meeting a pair of horses, late one evening, said to them:
"It is time all honest horses were in bed. Why are you driving out at this time of day?"
"Ah!" returned they, "if it is so very late, why are you out riding?"
"I never in my life," retorted the ass angrily, "knew a horse to return a direct answer to a civil question."
This tale shows that this ass did not know everything.
[The implication that horses do not answer questions seems to have irritated the worthy fabulist.-TRANSLATOR.]
XIII.
A stone being cast by the plough against a lump of earth, hastened to open the conversation as follows:
"Virtue, which is the opposite of vice, is best fostered by the absence of temptation!"
The lump of earth, being taken somewhat by surprise, was not prepared with an apophthegm, and said nothing.
Since that time it has been customary to call a stupid person a "clod."
XIV.
A river seeing a zephyr carrying off an anchor, asked him, "What are you going to do with it?"
"I give it up," replied the zephyr, after mature reflection.
"Blow me if I would!" continued the river; "you might just as well not have taken it at all."
"Between you and me," returned the zephyr, "I only picked it up because it is customary for zephyrs to do such things. But if you don't mind I will carry it up to your head and drop it in your mouth."
This fable teaches such a multitude of good things that it would be invidious to mention any.
XV.
A peasant sitting on a pile of stones saw an ostrich approaching, and when it had got within range he began pelting it. It is hardly probable that the bird liked this; but it never moved until a large number of boulders had been discharged; then it fell to and ate them.
"It was very good of you, sir," then said the fowl; "pray tell me to what virtue I am indebted for this excellent meal."
"To piety," replied the peasant, who, believing that anything able to devour stones must be a god, was stricken with fear. "I beg you won't think these were merely cold victuals from my table; I had just gathered them fresh, and was intending to have them dressed for my dinner; but I am always hospitable to the deities, and now I suppose I shall have to go without."
"On the contrary, my pious youth," returned the ostrich, "you shall go within."
And the man followed the stones.
The falsehoods of the wicked never amount to much.
XVI.
Two thieves went into a farmer's granary and stole a sack of kitchen vegetables; and, one of them slinging it across his shoulders, they began to run away. In a moment all the domestic animals and barn-yard fowls about the place were at their heels, in high clamour, which threatened to bring the farmer down upon them with his dogs.
"You have no idea how the weight of this sack assists me in escaping, by increasing my momentum," said the one who carried the plunder; "suppose you take it."
"Ah!" returned the other, who had been zealously pointing out the way to safety, and keeping foremost therein, "it is interesting to find how a common danger makes people confiding. You have a thousand times said I could not be trusted with valuable booty. It is an humiliating confession, but I am myself convinced that if I should assume that sack, and the impetus it confers, you could not depend upon your dividend."