FAVOURITE FABLES. 149

and now grew sure of his prize, perceiving it loiter on a bed
of violets. But the fickle Fly, continually changing one
blossom for another, still eluded his attempts. At length,
observing it half buried in the cup of a tulip, he rushed
forward, and snatching it with violence, crushed it all to
pieces.
MORAL.

Pleasure, like the Butterfly,

Will still elude as we draw nigh;

And when we think we hold it fast,

Will, like the insect, breathe its last.

 

FABLE CVIL.

THE CROW AND THE PITCHER.

A Crow, ready to die with thirst, flew with joy to a
Pitcher, which he beheld at some distance. When he came
he found water in it, indeed, but so near the bottom that,
with all his stooping and straining, he was not able to reach
it. Then he endeavoured to overturn the Pitcher, that so at
least he might be able to get a little of it. But his strength
was not sufficient for this. At last, seeing some pebbles lie
near the place, he cast them one by one into the Pitcher;