A rat seeing a cat approaching, and
finding no avenue of escape, went boldly up to her,
and said:
“Madam, I have just swallowed
a dose of powerful bane, and in accordance with instructions
upon the label, have come out of my hole to die.
Will you kindly direct me to a spot where my corpse
will prove peculiarly offensive?”
“Since you are so ill,”
replied the cat, “I will myself transport you
to a spot which I think will suit.”
So saying, she struck her teeth through
the nape of his neck and trotted away with him.
This was more than he had bargained for, and he squeaked
shrilly with the pain.
“Ah!” said the cat, “a
rat who knows he has but a few minutes to live, never
makes a fuss about a little agony. I don’t
think, my fine fellow, you have taken poison enough
to hurt either you or me.”
So she made a meal of him.
If this fable does not teach that
a rat gets no profit by lying, I should be pleased
to know what it does teach.
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