Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CLXXVII and CLXXVIII

FABLE CLXXVII.

THE SCHOOL-BOY, THE PEDANT, AND THE NURSERY GARDENER.

A certain Boy, half-spoiled at school-- Your Pedants spoil lads, as a rule;

Ten times a fool, ten times a rogue They'd made this mischievous young dog.

-- A neighbour's flowers and fruits he stole: A man who struggled, heart and soul, To raise Pomona's choicest treasure: In what was bad he had no pleasure.

Each season did its tribute bring, And Flora's gifts were his in spring.

One day he saw upon a tree The boy climb up, and recklessly Spoil half the buds, the promise dear Of future plenty for the year;-- He even broke the boughs.

At last The Gardener to the school ran fast.

The Master came, with all his train Of lads.

"Of what does he complain?"

The orchard's full of dreadful boys, Worse than the first, in tricks and noise.

The Pedant, though he meant not to, Made the first evil double grow.

The Pedant was so eloquent About the sin and ill intent;

It was a lesson not forgot By the whole school, an ill-taught lot;

He often cites the Mantuan bard;

At rhetoric toils hot and hard.

So long his speech, the wicked race Had time enough to spoil the place.

I hate your misplaced eloquence, Endless, ill-timed, and without sense;

And no fool I detest so bad As an ill-taught and thievish lad, Except his Master; yet the best Of these is a bad neighbour, 'tis confessed.

FABLE CLXXVIII.

THE CAT AND THE FOX.

The Fox and Cat, two saints indeed, To make a pilgrimage agreed: Two artful hypocrites they were,-- Soft-footed, sly, and smooth, and fair.

Full many a fowl, and many a cheese, Made up for loss of time and ease.

The road was long, and weary too: To shorten it, to talk they flew.

For argument drives sleep away, And helps a journey on, they say.

The Fox to the Cat says, "My friend, [Illustration: THE CAT AND THE FOX.

] To be so clever you pretend;

Say what am I?

I've in this sack A hundred tricks."

"Well, on my back," The other, very timid, said, "I've only one, I'm quite afraid;

But that, I hold, is worth a dozen, My enemies to cheat and cozen."

Then the dispute began anew, With "So say I!"

and "I tell you!"

Till, suddenly, some hounds in sight Silenced them soon, as it well might.

The Cat cries, "Search your bag, my friend, Or you are lost, you may depend: Choose out your choicest stratagem!"

Puss climbed a tree, and baffled them.

The Fox a hundred burrows sought: Turned, dodged, and doubled, as he thought, To put the terriers at fault, And shun their rough and rude assault.

In every place he tried for shelter, But begged it vainly; helter skelter, The hounds were on the treacherous scent, That still betrayed, where'er he went.

At last, as from a hole he started, Two swift dogs on poor Reynard darted;

Then came up all the yelping crew, And at his throat at once they flew.

Too many schemes spoil everything, We lose our time in settling.

Have only one, as wise man should: But let that one be sound and good.

FABLE CLXXIX.