If you on travelling are bent.
For my part, I am quite content
Here to remain. Folks praise my Honey;
And though it is not always sunny
In this our clime, here is our hive;
And we to earn our food contrive—
Nay, all considered, really thrive.
We have our labours to attend to,
And know that those we ought to bend to;
While folk like you go where you list
And certainly will not be missed.
It matters not where you're abiders,—
None profit by you, save the Spiders."
(Krilov, Fables. Translated from the Russian for Fraser's Magazine.)
THE RAIN CLOUD
A LARGE Cloud passed rapidly over a country which was parched by heat, but did not let a single drop fall to refresh it. Presently this same Cloud poured a generous shower of rain into the sea, and then began to boast of its generosity, within hearing of a neighbouring Mountain. But the Mountain replied:
"What good have you done by such mistaken generosity? And how can any one help being pained by the sight of it? If you had poured your showers over the thirsty land, you would have saved a whole district from hunger. But as for the sea, my friend, it has plenty of water already, without your adding a few little rain drops to it."
(Krilov, Fables. Adapted from translation by William R. S. Ralston.)
