Part 25 (1/2)
At the next turnstile they overtook some women carrying market baskets loaded with vegetables and other things to sell.
”Look at the old fool,” exclaimed one of them. ”Perched on the a.s.s, while that poor boy has to walk.”
The Miller felt a bit vexed, but to be agreeable he told the Boy to climb up behind him.
They had no sooner started out again than a loud shout went up from another company of people on the road.
”What a crime,” cried one, ”to load up a poor dumb beast like that! They look more able to carry the poor creature, than he to carry them.”
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”They must be on their way to sell the poor thing's hide,” said another.
The Miller and his Son quickly scrambled down, and a short time later, the market place was thrown into an uproar as the two came along carrying the Donkey slung from a pole. A great crowd of people ran out to get a closer look at the strange sight.
The a.s.s did not dislike being carried, but so many people came up to point at him and laugh and shout, that he began to kick and bray, and then, just as they were crossing a bridge, the ropes that held him gave way, and down he tumbled into the river.
The poor Miller now set out sadly for home. By trying to please everybody, he had pleased n.o.body, and lost his a.s.s besides.
_If you try to please all, you please none._
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THE ANT AND THE DOVE
A Dove saw an Ant fall into a brook. The Ant struggled in vain to reach the bank, and in pity, the Dove dropped a blade of straw close beside it. Clinging to the straw like a s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor to a broken spar, the Ant floated safely to sh.o.r.e.
Soon after, the Ant saw a man getting ready to kill the Dove with a stone. But just as he cast the stone, the Ant stung him in the heel, so that the pain made him miss his aim, and the startled Dove flew to safety in a distant wood.
_A kindness is never wasted._
THE MAN AND THE SATYR
A long time ago a Man met a Satyr in the forest and succeeded in making friends with him. The two soon became the best of comrades, living together in the Man's hut. But one cold winter evening, as they were walking homeward, the Satyr saw the Man blow on his fingers.
”Why do you do that?” asked the Satyr.
”To warm my hands,” the Man replied.
When they reached home the Man prepared two bowls of porridge.