A Miser had buried his gold in a secret place in his garden. The first time he jumped he missed it by a long way. So they decided to leave the farmyard and to set out into the world along the road that led to the woods. At first his beams were gentle, and in the pleasant warmth after the bitter cold of the North Wind, the Traveler unfastened his cloak and let it hang loosely from his shoulders. Fancy me running away from a puny Lion! All those who were so unfortunate as to have horns, began to pack up and move out. No compromise was possible, and so they went at it tooth and claw. They persuaded the Dogs to go away, and that very evening the Wolves had the grandest feast of their lives.
We often make much of the ornamental and despise the useful.