l6 THE FABLES OF LA FONTAINE. A lamb her thirst was slaking, Once, at a mountain rill. A hungry wolf .was taking His hunt for sheep to kill, When, spying on the streamlet's brink This sheep of tender age, He howled in tones of rage,
- How dare you roil my drink?
Your impudence I shall chastise ! '
- Let not your majesty,' the lamb replies,
' Decide in haste or passion ! For sure 't is difficult to think In what respect or fashion My drinking here could roil your drink, Since on the stream your majesty now faces I 'm lower dow'% full twenty paces.' ' You roil it,' said the wolf; ' and, more, I know You cursed and slandered me a year ago.'
- Oh, no ! how could I such a thing have done ?
A lamb that has not seen a year, A suckling of its mother dear?'
- Your brother then.' ' But brother I have none '
- Well, well, what 's all the same,
'T was some one of your name. Sheep, men, and dogs of every nation Are wont to stab my reputation. As I have truly heard.' Without another word,
