ll make me take wing.
Why, an ox weighs much more,
Yet I drive him before
When I get good and ready to sting.
Now, roar!"

Then loudly his trumpet he blew. And--whew!
How fiercely and fast at his foe he flew.
From the tail to the toes
He draws blood as he goes.
Then he starts in to sting and to chew
His nose.

Sir Lion was mad with the pain. In vain
He roared and he foamed and he shook his mane.
All the beasts that were nigh
Fled in fear from his cry.
But the Gnat only stung him again--
In the eye.

He looked and laughed as he saw--Haw, Haw!--
The Lion self-torn by his tooth and claw,
So His Majesty's hide
With his own blood was dyed.
Said the Gnat: "Shall I serve you up raw--
Or fried?"

It's finished. The Lion's loud roar is o'er.
He's bitten and beaten, he's sick and sore.
But a spider's web spread
Trapped the Gnat as he sped
With the news...He will never fight more--
He's dead!

The Dove And The Ant.

An Ant who in a brook would drink
Fell off the bank. He tried
To swim, and felt his courage sink--
This ocean seemed so wide.
But for a dove who flew above
He would have drowned and died.

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.

The Fox And The Grapes.

Rosy and ripe, and ready to box,
The grapes hang high o'er the hungry Fox.--
He pricks up his ears, and his eye he cocks.

Ripe and rosy, yet so high!--
He gazes at them with a greedy eye,
And knows he must eat and drink--or die.

When the jump proves to be beyond his power--
"Pooh!" says the Fox. "Let the pigs devour
Fruit of that sort. Those grapes are sour!"

The Ass In The Lion's Skin.

An Ass in The Lion's skin arrayed
Made everybody fear.
And this was queer,
Because he was himself afraid.
Yet everywhere he strayed
The people ran like deer.

Ah, ah! He is betrayed:
No lion has that long and hairy ears.

Old Martin spied the tip; and country folk
Who are not in the secret of the joke