A Dog, to whom the butcher had thrown a bone, was hurrying home with his prize as fast as he could go. You must come and dine with me today, he said to the Stork, smiling to himself at the trick he was going to play. So he pretended he was lame, and began to hobble painfully. For dinner the Fox served soup, But it was set out in a very shallow dish, and all the Stork could do was to wet the very tip of his bill. Look at my wings. This wheat is now ready for reaping, said the Farmer. As she walked along, her pretty head was busy with plans for the days to come. I learned a lesson from the Ass, replied the Fox, carefully edging away.
Notoriety is not fame.