A villain may disguise himself,
but he will not deceive the wise.
A Spendthrift, who had wasted his fortune, and had
nothing left but the clothes in which he stood, saw
a Swallow one fine day in early spring. Thinking
that summer had come, and that he could now do without
his coat, he went and sold it for what it would fetch.
A change, however, took place in the weather, and
there came a sharp frost which killed the unfortunate
Swallow. When the Spendthrift saw its dead body
he cried, “Miserable bird! Thanks to you
I am perishing of cold myself.”
One swallow does not make
summer.
An Old Woman became almost totally blind from a disease
of the eyes, and, after consulting a Doctor, made
an agreement with him in the presence of witnesses
that she should pay him a high fee if he cured her,
while if he failed he was to receive nothing.
The Doctor accordingly prescribed a course of treatment,
and every time he paid her a visit he took away with
him some article out of the house, until at last,
when he visited her for the last time, and the cure
was complete, there was nothing left. When the
Old Woman saw that the house was empty she refused
to pay him his fee; and, after repeated refusals on
her part, he sued her before the magistrates for payment
of her debt. On being brought into court she was
ready with her defence. “The claimant,”
said she, “has stated the facts about our agreement
correctly. I undertook to pay him a fee if he
cured me, and he, on his part, promised to charge
nothing if he failed. Now, he says I am cured;
but I say that I am blinder than ever, and I can prove
what I say. When my eyes were bad I could at any
rate see well enough to be aware that my house contained
a certain amount of furniture and other things; but
now, when according to him I am cured, I am entirely
unable to see anything there at all.”
The Moon once begged her Mother to make her a gown.
“How can I?” replied she; “there’s
no fitting your figure. At one time you’re
a New Moon, and at another you’re a Full Moon;
and between whiles you’re neither one nor the
other.”
A Woodman was felling a tree on the bank of a river,
when his axe, glancing off the trunk, flew out of
his hands and fell into the water. As he stood
by the water’s edge lamenting his loss, Mercury
appeared and asked him the reason for his grief; and
on learning what had happened, out of pity for his
distress he dived into the river and, bringing up
a golden axe, asked him if that was the one he had
lost. The Woodman replied that it was not, and
Mercury then dived a second time, and, bringing up
