Kriloff’s Original Fables
In Shepherd Stephen’s flock (he kept his master’s sheep)
The animals once took to dying.
Our smart boy, sighing,
Laments, nay, almost he will weep
;
He goes about, relating unto all That on his flock too oft did fall A dreadful wolf, it dragged the sheep from fold, And pitilessly tore them.
” And no great wonder,” say both young and old, ” When was’t that wolves no hatred bore them ? ”
The wolf they try to catch and slay.
But, how is it that Stephen puts away
Now mutton broth, now ribs of sheep with rice ? (He’d been a town cook once, and, for his sins, Now in a village bread he wins : But in his eating still was nice.)
The wolf they hunt ; if they could only find him ! But in the wood the wolf no trace hath left behind him. Time waste not, friends ! The wolf you blame, and
yet
‘Twas Stephen that the sheep up ate.
[There is a Russian proverb, almost in the very words
of the concluding lines.]

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