ain--
Then dine on one substantial dish,
If plainly dress'd, of flesh or fish."
Grave look'd the doctor as he spake--
The squire concludes th' advice to take,
And, cheated into temperance, found
The bliss his former luxury drown'd.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE FROGS DESIRING A KING.

Athens in freedom flourish'd long,
'Till licence seized the giddy throng.
Just laws grown weary to obey,
They sunk to tyranny a prey.
Pisistratus, though mild he sway'd,
Their turbulence had not allay'd.
Whilst they were cursing in despair,
The yoke they had not learn'd to bear,
Esop, their danger to describe,
Rehears'd this fable to the tribe:

"Some frogs, like you, of freedom tired,
From Jupiter a king desir'd:
One that should execute the law,
And keep the dissolute in awe.
Jove laugh'd, and threw them down a log,
That thundering fell and shook the bog.
Amongst the reeds the tremblers fled:
Till one more bold advanc'd his head,
And saw the monarch of the flood
Lying half smothered in the mud.
He calls the croaking race around:
"A wooden king!" the banks resound.
Fear once remov'd they swim about him,
And gibe and jeer and mock and flout him;
And messengers to Jove depute,
Effectively to grant their suit.
A hungry stork he sent them then,
Who soon had swallow'd half the fen.
Their woes scarce daring to reveal,
To Mercury by night they steal,
And beg him to entreat of Jove
The direful tyrant to remove.
'No,' says the God, 'they chose their lot,
And must abide what they have got:'
So you, my friends, had best go home
In peace, lest something worse should come."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE HARE AND THE BRAMBLE.

A hare, closely pursued, thought it prudent and meet
To a bramble for refuge awhile to retreat;
He enter'd the covert, but entering, found
That briers and thorns did on all sides abound;
And that, though he was safe, yet he never could stir,
But his sides they would wound, or would tear off his fur:
He shrugg'd up his shoulders, but would not complain:
"To repine at small evils," quoth puss, "is in vain:
That no bliss can be perfect, I very well knew--
But from the same source good and evil doth flow--
And full sorely my skin though these briers may rend,
Yet they keep off the dogs, and my life will defend:
For the sake of the good, then, let evil be borne--
For each sweet has its bitter, each bramble its thorn."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE HORSE