An Ant who in a brook would drink
Fell off the bank. He tried
To swim, and felt his courage sink
This ocean…
The friendly Dove within her beak
A bridge of grass-stem bore:
On this the Ant, though worn and weak.
Contrived to reach the shore
Said he: “The tact of this kind act
I’ll cherish evermore.”
Behold! A barefoot wretch went by
With slingshot in his hand.
Said he: “You’ll make a pigeon pie
That will be kind of grand.”
He meant to murder the gentle bird–
Who did not understand.
The Ant then stung him on the heel
(So quick to see the sling).
He turned his head, and missed a meal:
The pigeon pie took wing.
And so the Dove lived on to love–
Beloved by everything.
Fables in Rhyme for Little Folks
Adapted from the French of La Fontaine.
Written by, W. T. Larned
Illustrated by, John Rae.
New York, July 1918.
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