- The Shepherd and the Lion
- The Lion and the Hunter
- Phoebus And Boreas
- Jupiter and the Farmer
- The Cockerel, the Cat, and the Young Mouse
- The Fox, the Monkey, and the Animals – La Fontaine Fables
- The Mule Boasting Of His Genealogy – La Fontaine Fables
- The Old Man and the Ass
- The Stag Seeing Himself In The Water
- The Hare and the Tortoise
- The Ass and his Masters
- The Sun and the Frogs
- The Countryman and the Serpent
- The Sick Lion and the Fox
- The Fowler, the Hawk, and the Lark
- The Horse and the Ass
- The Dog That Dropped The Substance For The Shadow
- The Carter in the Mire
- The Charlatan
- Discord – Jean de La Fontaine Fables
- The Young Widow
A youthful mouse, not up to trap,
Had almost met a sad mishap.
The story hear him thus relate,
With great importance, to his mother:
“I passed the mountain bounds of this estate,
And off was trotting on another,
Like some young rat with nothing to do
But see things wonderful and new,
When two strange creatures came in view.
The one was mild, benign, and gracious;
The other, turbulent, rapacious,
With voice terrific, shrill, and rough,
And on his head a bit of stuff
That looked like raw and bloody meat,
Raised up a sort of arms, and beat
The air, as if he meant to fly,
And bore his plumy tail on high.”
A cock, that just began to crow,
As if some nondescript,
From far New Holland shipped,
Was what our mousling pictured so.
“He beat his arms,” said he, “and raised his voice,
And made so terrible a noise,
That I, who, thanks to Heaven, may justly boast
Myself as bold as any mouse,
Scud off, (his voice would even scare a ghost!)
And cursed himself and all his house;
For, but for him, I should have staid,
And doubtless an acquaintance made
With her who seemed so mild and good.
Like us, in velvet cloak and hood,
She wears a tail that’s full of grace,
A very sweet and humble face,—
No mouse more kindness could desire,—
And yet her eye is full of fire.
I do believe the lovely creature
A friend of rats and mice by nature.
Her ears, though, like herself, they’re bigger,
Are just like ours in form and figure.
To her I was approaching, when,
Aloft on what appeared his den,
The other screamed,—and off I fled.”
“My son,” his cautious mother said,
“That sweet one was the cat,
The mortal foe of mouse and rat,
Who seeks by smooth deceit,
Her appetite to treat.
So far the other is from that,
We yet may eat
His dainty meat;
Whereas the cruel cat,
Whenever she can, devours
No other meat than ours.”
Remember while you live,
It is by looks that men deceive.
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