A Dog, to whom the butcher had thrown a bone, was hurrying home with his prize as fast as he could go. Instead, not long afterward, he invited the Fox to dine with him in turn. A third time and she drew out the chestnut. What they seemed to think of more than anything else was to get something to eat, and it did not matter much to them how they got it. Please let me go, he pleaded. The Woodman was in despair. One warm summer afternoon as she dozed away in her den in the old oak tree, a Grasshopper nearby began a joyous but very raspy song. At last he became so heated that he pulled off his cloak, and, to escape the blazing sunshine, threw himself down in the welcome shade of a tree by the roadside.
Poverty with security is better than plenty in the midst of fear and uncertainty.