The Ass's Wish.
An Ass was wishing in a hard Winter, for a little warm Weather, and a Mouthful of fresh Grass to knap upon, in Exchange for a heartless Truss of Straw, and a cold Lodging. In good time, the warm Weather, and the fresh Grass comes on; but so much Toil and Bus'ness along with it, that the Ass grows quickly as sick of the Spring, as he was of the Winter. His next Longing is for Summer; but what with Harvest-Work, and other Drudgeries of that Season, he is worse now than he was in the Spring and then he fancies he shall never be well 'till Autumn comes: But there again, what with carrying Apples, Grapes, Fewel, Winter-Provisions, etc. he finds himself in a greater Hurry than ever. In fine, when he has trod the Circle of the Year in a Course of restless Labour, his last Prayer is for Winter again; and that he may but take up his Rest where he began his Complaint.
A Husbandman turn'd Soldier and Merchant.
Oh the endless Misery of the Life I lead! cries the moiling Husbandman, to spend all my Days in Ploughing, Sowing, Digging, and Dunging, and to make nothing on't at last! Why now in a Soldier's Life there's Honour to be got, and one lucky Hit sets up a Man for ever. Faith, I'll e'en put off my Stock, get me a Horse and Arms, and try the Fortune of the War. Away he goes; makes his Push; stands the shock of a Battle, and compounds at last for the leaving of a Leg or an Arm behind him, to go home again. By this time he has had his Bellyful of Knight-Errantry, and a new Freak takes him in the Crown. He might do better, he fancies, in the Way of a Merchant. This Maggot has no sooner set him agog, but he gets him a Ship immediately; Freights her, and so away to Sea upon Adventure: Builds Castles in the Air, and conceits both the Indies in his Coffers, before he gets so much as Clear of the Port. Well! and what's the End of all this at last? He falls into Foul Weather, among Flats and Rocks, where Merchant, Vessel, Goods, and all are lost in one Common Wreck.
Few Friends.
One that had a Great Honour for Socrates, took Notice of a Pitiful Little House that he was a Building: 'Tis a strange Thing (says he to the Philosopher,) that so Great a Man as you are should ever think of Living in so Wretched a Cabin. Well, says Socrates, And yet as Little as it is, he were a Happy Man that had but True Friends enough to Fill it.
The Owl and the Sun.
There was a Pinking Owl once upon a very Bright and a Glorious Morning, that sate Sputtering at the Sun, and ask'd him what he meant to stand Staring her in the Eyes at that Rate. Well, says the Sun, but if your Eyes will not bear the Light, what's your Quarrel to my Beams that Shed it? Do you think it a Reasonable Thing that the whole World should be Depriv'd of the Greatest Blessing in Nature, to Gratifie the Folly, the Arrogance and the Infirmity of One Sot?
There is nothing so Excellent, or so Faultless, but Envy and Detraction will find somewhat to say against it.
An Ass and Two Travellers.
A Couple of Travellers that took up an Ass in a Forest, fell downright to Loggerheads, which of the two should be his Master: So the Ass was to stand by, to see those Two Boobies try their Title to him by a Rubber of Cuffs. The Ass very fairly look'd on, till they had Box'd themselves a-weary, and then left them both in the Lurch.
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