XXIII. Envy, a Fable.

A Parrot that liv'd at a gentleman's house,

Could chatter and sometimes lie still as a

mouse.

He was hung at the door in a cage that was gay,

And treated with plenty one fine sunny day,

When the Cat, thro' mere envy, was thus heard

to say,

Pray, sir, do you live on these excellent things,

Because you're a bird, and have feathers and wings?

If a Cat is in want of a dinner that's nice,

She must hunt in the garret or cellar for mice.

The Parrot, observing the Cat in a rage,

Said, pray Mrs. Puss, are you fond of a cage;

Should you like to be kept in a prison like me,

And never permitted your neighbours to see?

Depriv'd of all means of assisting yourself,

Though numberless dainties in sight on the shelf?

Should you like to be fed at the will of a master,

And die of neglect or some cruel-disaster?

You cannot believe it more happy to be,

A parrot encaged, than a cat and quite free.

The cat was convinced that this reasoning was true,

And, ashamed of her envy, in silence withdrew.