A famished fox crept into a vineyard where ripe, luscious grapes were draped high upon arbors in a most tempting display. In his effort to win a juicy prize, the fox jumped and sprang many times but failed in all his attempts. When he finally had to admit defeat, he retreated and muttered to himself, "Well, what does it matter anyway? The grapes are sour!"

It is easy to despise what you cannot get.
A crow had snatched a large piece of cheese from a windowsill and was now perched securely on a high tree, about to enjoy her prize. A fox spied the dainty morsel in her beak and tried to think of a way to make it his.

"Oh crow," he said, "how beautiful your wings are! How bright your eyes! How graceful your neck! Indeed, your breast is the breast of an eagle! Your claws - I beg your pardon - your claws are a match for all the beasts of the field. Oh, if only your voice were equal to your beauty, you would deserve to be called the queen of birds!"

Pleased by the flattery and chuckling as she imagined how she would surprise the fox with her caw, she opened her mouth - and out dropped the cheese, which the fox promptly snapped up. Then, right before he departed, he cried out to the crow, "You may indeed have a voice, but I wonder where your brains are."

Whoever listens to the music of flatterers must expect to pay the piper.
GUEST
BOOK

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