frequently do we illustrate a point by a reference to "Sour Grapes," or to "A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing?" Yet probably not one in twenty knows that all these familiar illustrations find their origin in the fables of Aesop or La Fontaine.
These old classic fables are a part of the literature "which the world has chosen to remember." They have become a part of the literary coin of the realm. In his introduction to Aesop's Fables, Joseph Jacobs says: "In their grotesque grace, in their quaint humor, in their trust in the simpler virtues, in their insight into the cruder vices, in their innocence of the fact of sex, Aesop's Fables are as little children." As an example:
It happened that a fisher, after fishing all day, caught
only a little fish. "Pray, let me go, master," said the
fish. "I am much too small for your eating just now.
If you put me back into the river I shall soon grow,
then you can make a fine meal off me."
"Nay, nay, my little fish," said the fisher, "I have you now. I may not catch you hereafter."
It has been well said that the fables are
the child's best introduction to the study of
human nature. They are "an interpretation
of life." That animals are made to talk, and
to exhibit human traits, only adds to the
