One cold stormy day a Goatherd drove his Goats for shelter into a cave, where a number of Wild Goats had also found their way. It was such a joyful song that his pleasure-loving heart was filled with a wish to sing as they did. At last, worn out with rage and covered with wounds that his own teeth and claws had made, the Lion gave up the fight. One of them had a very kind and gracious look, but the other was the most fearful monster you can imagine. At least they wished to find some way of knowing when she was coming, so they might have time to run away. Now the black Jackdaw was not a very handsome bird, nor very refined in manner. The poor Oxen, pulling with all their might to draw the wagon through the deep mud, had their ears filled with the loud complaining of the Wheels. At last he managed to scramble out, and as he stood sadly thinking about the good bone he had lost, he realized what a stupid Dog he had been.
One swallow does not make a summer.