Literary Fables of Yriarte Part 12

A Nightingale her voice one day was tuning In notes to match an organ's sonorous swell; When by her cage a chattering Sparrow roaming Stopped--his surprise at her attempt to tell.

"I marvel much, that such strange pains you take; That you, who sing so sweetly and so well, Your imitators, thus, your models make; For sure, the notes the organ's pipes that swell, It owes to imitation of your song."

"Nevertheless," replies the Nightingale,-- "Though it had learned of me, I would not fail From it, in turn, instruction to derive.

And you will see the good results ere long.

To imitate my native bursts it sought; I wish my untutored strains to modify By the deep rules of science it has taught.

And thus, good sir, you see, that by and by, My natural talent will by education thrive."

Has the caprice some learned fancy crossed, That hours to study given are labor lost?

Who wisest is, will ever study most.

FABLE XLIX.

THE GARDENER AND HIS MASTER.

A copious fountain played In a garden's flowery bed, And served to form a basin Where many fish were fed.

Of the watering of his flowers The Gardener thought alone; And drained it dry, till due supply For carp and tench was gone.

His Master soon the mischief saw, And scolds the careless sinner.

"The flowers I love; but also like My mess of fish for dinner."

The Gardener, grown crusty, So reads his Master's whim, That he lets the plants go thirsty, That carp and tench may swim.

In the garden, shortly after, The indignant owner found His flowers, all dry and withered, Upon the parching ground.

"b.o.o.by! you need not water waste, And leave me not a fish to taste; Nor yet deny--to save the fish-- A single flower to grace the dish,"

Though the maxim may be trite,-- Unless you have the skill, Taste and profit to unite,-- Lay by the author's quill.

FABLE L.

THE TWO THRUSHES.

A Thrush, with years grown gray, And wise as well as old, His grandson asked one day,-- An unpractised youth and bold,-- With him to go straightway, Their morning flight to hold, Where a well-stocked vineyard lay-- On its luscious fruit to prey.

"Where may this vineyard be?"-- The youngling answered coy,-- "And what fruit is there?"--"We'll see.

Learn how to live, my boy,"

Said the grandsire. "Come with me, And a banquet rich enjoy."

As he spoke the words, he shew Where thick the cl.u.s.ters grew.

The pert young pilferer saw;-- "Is this the fruit you puff?

Who would think you were so raw?

What puny, withered stuff!

Pooh! It isn't worth a straw.

Now, bigger fruit enough, And better far than any here I know of, in a garden near.

A single grape, I'll swear, Will prove better than it all.

But we'll make a trial fair,"

When they reach the garden wall, The fledgling shouts--"Look there-- How big and nice! I call That fruit, indeed--no trash."

Reader, it was a yellow calabash.

It may not much surprise That young birds by chaff are caught; But that, by men reputed wise, Books should, for bulk, be bought, And valued for their size, Is stranger, is it not?

If a good work, 'tis great of course; If bad, the more there is the worse.

FABLE LI.

THE LACE-MAKERS.

Near a lace-weaver, lived A man who made silver and gold galloons.

"Now, who would have believed, Neighbor," said he, "that, even for more doubloons, Three yards of your light lace are sold Than ten of mine, though wrought in heavy gold!"

"That my articles exceed In value, sir, so very much your own, Is not strange; although, indeed, You work in gold, and I in thread alone.

For skill is known to all To be of greater worth than raw material."

Let those, at style who sneer, And, to regard the matter only, condescend, Note that--as here A simple thread doth precious gold transcend-- So elegance and finish give That form to thought, by which great works shall live.

FABLE LII.

THE HUNTER AND HIS FERRET.

Well tired, and exhausted With the heat of the sun, But loaded with rabbits, A Hunter turned home.