The Birds and the Beasts declared war against each other. You must be very glad to have me go now, he said. But no matter who it was, I do not intend to be talked out of my breakfast. But when he tried to rise again he found that he could not get away, for his claws were tangled in the wool. Long shadows came creeping over the ground. If that is the case, he said, cover up that stone. The Fox was well satisfied, but the Lion flew into a great rage over it, and with one stroke of his huge paw, he added the Ass to the pile of slain. Just then one of the swarm came home from the clover field with a load of sweets. I can feel that distinctly. Next day he was put into harness again and that evening he was very downhearted indeed. Instead of flying up to greet the first rays of the morning sun or to bathe in the rosy light among the floating clouds at sunset, he would have to walk the ground more encumbered and oppressed than any common barnyard fowl.
A kindness is never wasted.