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The Lark and Her Young Ones

Self-help is the best help.

Townsend version

A lark had made her nest in the early spring on the young green wheat. The brood had almost grown to their full strength and attained the use of their wings and the full plumage of their feathers, when the owner of the field, looking over his ripe crop, said, "The time has come when I must ask all my neighbors to help me with my harvest." One of the young Larks heard his speech and related it to his mother, inquiring of her to what place they should move for safety. "There is no occasion to move yet, my son," she replied; "the man who only sends to his friends to help him with his harvest is not really in earnest." The owner of the field came again a few days later and saw the wheat shedding the grain from excess of ripeness. He said, "I will come myself tomorrow with my laborers, and with as many reapers as I can hire, and will get in the harvest." The Lark on hearing these words said to her brood, "It is time now to be off, my little ones, for the man is in earnest this time; he no longer trusts his friends, but will reap the field himself."

Moral

Self-help is the best help.

L'Estrange version

There was a brood of young larks in the corn, and the dam, when she went abroad to forage for them, laid a strict charge upon her little ones, to pick up what news they could get against she came back again. They told her at her return, that the owner of the field had been there, and order'd his neighbours to come and reap the corn. Well, says the old one, ther's no danger yet then. They told her the next day that he had been there again, and desir'd his friends to do't. Well, well, says she, there's no hurt in that neither, and so she went out a progging for provisions again as before. But upon the third day, when they told their mother, that the master and his son appointed to come the next morning about it themselves: nay then, says she, 'tis time to look about us: as for the neighbours and the friends, I fear 'em not: but the master I'm sure will be as good as his word; for 'tis his own bus'ness.

Moral

He that would be sure to have his bus'ness well done, must either do it himself, or see the doing of it; beside that many a good servant is spoil'd by a careless master.

 

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