wn all with a
dessert, a remnant of a charming mellow apple. In good manners, he
forbore to eat any himself, lest the stranger should not have enough;
but that he might seem to bear the other company, sat and nibbled a
piece of a wheaten straw very busily. At last, says the spark of the
town:--"Old crony, give me leave to be a little free with you: how can
you bear to live in this nasty, dirty, melancholy hole here, with
nothing but woods, and meadows, and mountains, and rivulets about you?
Do not you prefer the conversation of the world to the chirping of
birds, and the splendor of a court to the rude aspect of an uncultivated
desert? Come, take my word for it, you will find it a change for the
better. Never stand considering, but away this moment. Remember, we are
not immortal, and therefore have no time to lose. Make sure of to-day,
and spend it as agreeably as you can: you know not what may happen
to-morrow." In short, these and such like arguments prevailed, and his
Country Acquaintance was resolved to go to town that night. So they both
set out upon their journey together, proposing to sneak in after the
close of the evening. They did so; and about midnight made their entry
into a certain great house, where there had been an extraordinary
entertainment the day before, and several tit-bits, which some of the
servants had purloined, were hid under the seat of a window. The Country
Guest was immediately placed in the midst of a rich Persian carpet: and
now it was the Courtier's turn to entertain; who indeed acquitted
himself in that capacity with the utmost readiness and address, changing
the courses as elegantly, and tasting everything first as judiciously,
as any clerk of the kitchen. The other sat and enjoyed himself like a
delighted epicure, tickled to the last degree with this new turn of his
affairs; when on a sudden, a noise of somebody opening the door made
them start from their seats, and scuttle in confusion about the
dining-room. Our Country Friend, in particular, was ready to die with
fear at the barking of a huge mastiff or two, which opened their throats
just about the same time, and made the whole house echo. At last,
recovering himself:--"Well," says he, "if this be your town-life, much
good may you do with it: give me my poor, quiet hole again, with my
homely but comfortable gray pease."

THE DOG AND THE WOLF

A lean, hungry, half-starved Wolf happened, one moonshiny night, to meet
with a jolly,