The Muff, the Fan, and the Parasol
"It sounds presumptuous and ill
To boast of universal skill,
But 'tis a scarce less fault, I own,
To serve one sort of use alone."
An idle Parasol, one day,
Within a lady's chamber lay,
And having nothing else to do,
Addressing his companions two,
Reclining near, a Muff and Fan,
He thus insultingly began,
Using a form of dialect,
In which, if Aesop is correct,
The Brass and Earthern Jars, of old,
Conversed as down the stream they rolled.
"Oh! sirs, ye merit mighty praise!
Yon Muff may do for wintry days,
A corner is your lot in spring;
While you, Fan, are a useless thing
When cold succeeds to heat; for neither
Can change yourself to suit the weather
Learn, if you're able to possess,
Like me a double usefulness,
From winter's rain I help to shun
And guard in summer from the sun."
The Duck and the Serpent
A self-conceited Duck, one day,
Was waddling from her pond away:
"What other race can boast," she cried,
"The many gifts to ours allied?
Earth—water—air—are all for us.
When I am tired of walking thus,
I fly, if so I take the whim,
Or if it pleases me I swim."
A cunning Serpent overheard
The boasting of the clumsy bird,
And, with contempt and scorn inflamed,
Came hissing up, and thus exclaimed:
"It strikes me, ma'am, there's small occasion
For your just uttered proclamation;
These gifts of yours shine rather dim,
Since neither like the trout you swim,
Nor like the deer, step swift and light,
Nor match the eagle in your flight."
They err who think that merit clings
To knowledge slight of many things;
He who his fellows would excel,
Whate'er he does should do it well.
The Tea and the Sage
The Tea from China on her way,
Met in some sea, or gulf, or bay—
(Would to her log I might refer!)
The Sage, who thus accosted her:
"Sister—ahoy! ho—whither bound?"
"I leave," she said, "my native ground
For Europe's markets, where, I'm told,
They purchase me by weight of gold."
"And I," the Sage replied, "am seeking
The route to Canton or to Peking;
Your Chinese use me largely in
Their cookery and medicine;
They know my virtues, nor deny
The praise I ask, however high,
While Europe scorns me, just indeed,
As if I was the vilest weed.
Go; and good luck t'ye; know full well
That you are sure enough to sell,
For nations all, (fools that they are!)
Value whatever comes from afar,
And give their money nothing loth,
For anything of foreign growth."
The Swan and the Linnet
Piqued at the Linnet's song one day,
The Swan exclaimed: "Leave off! I say—
Be still, you little noisy thing!
What!—dare you challenge me to sing,
When there's no voice, however fine,
Can match the melody of mine?"
(The Linnet warbled on)—"D'ye hear?
This impudence may cost you dear;
I could with one harmonious note
Forever stop your squeaking throat,
And, if I do not choose to try,
Respect my magnanimity."
"I wish," at length the Linnet said,
"I wish, to heaven, the proof were made;
You cannot imagine how I long
To hear that rich and flowing song
Which though so sweet, by fame averred,
I know not who has ever heard."
The Swan essayed to sing, but—whew!
She screeched and squalled a note or two,
Until the Linnet, it appears,
Took to her wings to save her ears.
'Tis strange when some of learned fame
Will prove their title to the name,
How often ill-placed praise they mar,
And show how ignorant they are.
The Flint and the Steel