"You make a poor dinner," said he to his guest;

     "Oh, dear! by no means," said the bird, "I protest."

     But the crane ask'd the fox on a subsequent day,

     When nothing, it seems, for their dinner had they

     But some minced meat served up in a narrow-neck'd jar;

     Too long, and narrow, for Reynard by far.

     "You make a poor dinner, I fear," said the bird;

     "Why, I think," said the fox, "'twould be very absurd

     To deny what you say, yet I cannot complain,

     But confess, though a fox, that I'm matched by a crane."

     Cunning folks who play tricks which good manners condemn,

     Often find their own tricks play'd again upon them.

      A luckless

     wight, in winter slow,

     Travelling once a forest through

     Cold and hungry, tired and wet,

     Began in words like these to fret:

     "Oh, what a sharp inclement day!

     And what a dismal, dreary way!

     No friendly cot, no cheering fields,

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