There was once a Wolf who got very little to eat because the Dogs of the village were so wide awake and watchful. Then handing the bundle to each of his Sons in turn he told them to try to break it. I dislike causing sorrow to anybody, and I am sure I can soon gnaw this string to pieces. But after the wedding, when the Kite flew away to find something to eat for his bride, all he had when he returned, was a tiny Mouse. The poor Miller now set out sadly for home. But the Reeds bowed low in the wind and sang a sad and mournful song. The Kid shivered as he thought of the terrible Wolf. I know it will make you sing like Apollo himself. No, said the Goat, that broken horn can speak for itself!
We often make much of the ornamental and despise the useful.