The fox and the crowing
Posted on August 24, 2010 | Author: Mukul Sharma | View 372
Once upon a time in a forest far away lived a plain looking crow who was not too great in the brains department either. One day while flapping around the woods her eyes spotted a piece of cheese lying on the ground.
Wow! she thought, this has got to be my lucky day. I’m pretty sure that’s Gouda down there! So she swooped down, deftly picked up the morsel in her beak and flew away to perch on a branch in order to partake of it in luxury.
For she knew from experience that swallowing it whole would totally ruin the taste but that, instead, if she sucked on it, licked its sides first and then sliced into it bit by bit it would prolong the flavour for much longer.
At that very moment, however, an extremely intelligent but hungry fox who happened to be trotting by below spied the crow holding the delicious titbit in her beak. Wow! he thought, this has got to be my lucky day.
I’m pretty sure that’s Gouda up there! Whereupon his agile brain immediately hatched an exceedingly cunning plan to outwit the stupid creature.
“What a noble and gracious bird I see in the tree!” he proclaimed in a crafty aside to the audience. “What radiant beauty! What fair plumage! Indeed, I wonder if her voice too might be as lovely as her looks for then she would surely be the queen of all animal kind.”
The crow who was not used to such high praise was so flattered that she decided to show off to the fox. But there was a problem: as long as her beak held the cheese there was no way she could open her mouth to utter a sound.
Thus there was also a dilemma. Should she forego the demo and lose her one chance at being queenie or should she forget about the flavour?
In the end vanity won and she swallowed the cheese in one gulp and began her raucous cry. “Caw caw caw,” she crowed. “Caw caw caw,” and realised at once what a colossal fool she had been. Slapping her forehead with a wing she said, “Flattery always gets you in the end.”
Meanwhile the fox who had no idea about the amount of grief he had caused the stupid bird who had succumbed to his wiles and frittered away the chance to taste the cheese, trudged away with a grumbling stomach.
What’s the point, he muttered to himself, of being so blessed clever when I can’t even nick a decent piece of cheese from a dumb bunch of dark feathers?
Slapping his forehead with a paw he said, “Flattery gets you nowhere in the end.” Moral: It’s morally relative.