The Woman Wants Something for the Button

Once upon a time an old man lived in a miserable hut with his old wife. They were so poor that they had not a single thing of worth but for a golden button on top of the woman’s spindle.

Lapland's coat of arms

Not far from the hut, there was a big hill. And people believed that there lived an elf inside who was called Kidhus and who one should be wary off.

Once, the man was going hunting as was his habit while the woman stayed home after her own habit. As the weather was beautiful on that day, she took her spindle outside and spun for a time. Then it happened that the golden button fell off the spindle and rolled so far away that the woman could no longer follow his path with her eyes. She was very unhappy about it and searched every but alas, she could not find it.

As the man came back home, she told him about her misfortune. Her husband guessed that it might have been Kidhus who took the button. It would be just like him to do so. The man made to go off again and he told his wife that he would go to Kidhus either to reclaim the button or to demand something else in its stead. The woman’s eyes got bigger and bigger as she heard him talk like this.

But the man went off and made straight for the hill in which Kidhus lived. With his thick stick he knocked long and hard upon the hill. Finally Kidhus said:

“Who is knocking on my house?”

The old man replied:

“It is the old man, the poor blighter,
My wife wants something for the button.”

Kidhus asked what he demanded for the button. The man asked for a cow that gave 10 litres of milk a day. Kidhus granted him his wish and so the man brought the cow back to his wife.

On the next day, after the woman had milked the cow in the morning and in the evening and had filled all her buckets with milk, she wanted to prepare porridge. But then she remembered that she had no flour for porridge. She went to her husband and asked him to go to Kidhus a second time and ask for flour. The man went to Kidhus again and, as before, he knocked with his stick upon the hill. Kidhus said:

“Who is knocking on my house?”

The old man answered:

“It is the old man, the poor blighter,
My wife wants something for the button.”

Kidhus queried what he demanded. The man asked for a little flour because his wife would like to make porridge. Kidhus gave the man a barrel full of flour which the latter took home where his wife made the porridge.

When the porridge was done, the man and his wife sat at the table and ate from it. When they were full and sated, there was still quiet a lot of porridge left. And so they began to think about what to do with the left-over. It seemed best to them to bring it to the Virgin Mary. But soon they realised that this would not be an easy undertaking. They therefore decided to ask Kidhus for a ladder which reached into the sky and thought that was not asking too much for the button.

The old man went off again and knocked on Kidhus’ hill. As he had done before, Khidus asked: “Who is knocking on my house?” The man replied as he had done earlier:

“It is the old man, the poor blighter,
My wife wants something for the button.”

Now Kidhus become angered and he said: “Is the miserable button still not paid for, then?” The old man only asked more urgently and said that he wanted to bring the rest of his porridge to the Virgin Mary.

At last, Kidhus agreed, gave him the ladder and raised it up for him. The man was very happy about it and went home to his wife to tell her all about it.

They immediately got travel-ready and took the pot of porridge with them. But as they had climbed quiet a bit up the ladder, dizziness caught them, they lost their balance and fell from the ladder, shattering their skulls.

Brain and porridge flew every where but where bits of their brain rained down onto the stones, they became white spots. And where the bits of porridge hit, yellow spots appeared. Even today, you can see these two kinds of spots on the stones.

Copyright for the tale’s translation: TaleTellerin (source)
Copyright for the image: Lapland’s coat of arms

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For an elf of whom one should be wary, this Kidhus sure is a push-over.

The Cat Who Pretended To Be A Lama

A long time ago there was a lama, a Buddhist monk, who spent his time in deep meditation. Next to him there lay a cat. One day the cat stole the lama’s snuff bottle and the lama went after the cat and got his snuff bottle back. Then another time the cat stole the lama’s rosary and hid in a hole. When the lama grabbed the cat by the tail, the tail suddenly got torn off.

not a Mongolian snuff-bottle but close enough

So the mice went to the cat and let her teach them. After a few days had passed Khuchin tuct, the khaan of the mice, told them: “Oh, it seems as if our teacher is eating us. In her excrements there are traces of bone and hair. Go back home and get a bell.” He sent a few mice to carry out his request.

The mice went home and came back with a bell. They said to the cat: “Teacher, please accept this jewellery from us!” And they put the bell around her neck. Khuchin tuct told his mice: “After today’s lesson will be over, we will exit one after another. If the bell should ring, we’ll turn around and hurry back.”

So when the lesson was finished, the mice went out together when suddenly they heard the bell ringing. The mice hurried back, and there the cat had caught one of the mice and was just about to eat it. Kuchin tuct said mournfully: “We believed the lies of our false, hypocritical teacher and so we lost several of our brothers and sisters.” And so the mice moved to another place.

The cat thought remorsefully: “If I had hidden my excrements, who would have ever found out about me?” And since then, it is told, cats hide their excrements by burying them.

Copyright for the tale’s translation: TaleTellerin
Copyright for the image: Snuff Bottle with Horse

*****

That beginning with its somewhat casual violence – tail torn off?! – very much reminds me of modern cartoons. You know, like Tom & Jerry. I never thought about it before but obviously it’s not such a new thing that we humans can have fun with things like this.

The dynamic between the cat and the mice and the speech of the mice’s khaan is also very interesting to me from a socio-cultural perspective. This tale might actually originate from Tibet, I think, but where ever it is from, it’s a fascinating depiction of the introduction of religion, the power-play behind it and the problems that can go with it. And with blind belief. Obviously, the tale is not meant to criticise religion – in this case Lamaism – as such since the lama in the beginning is shown in a decidedly positive light. But it warns against religion being used for all the wrong reasons. This differentiation and this warning have, I think, in our day and time lost none of their importance.

But today, let’s have another one of the most famous fables by Aesop. And beware of the very political contemplations at the end of this post.

The Lamb and the Wolf
by Aesop

wolf, lamb and the - ghost of its father?

“Why are you muddying the water that I want to drink?”

“How could that be possible?” replied the little lamb timidly. “I am standing down here and you so high up the stream. The water is flowing from you to me. Please believe me that it never crossed my mind to do something evil to you!”

“See! You are doing exactly what your father did six months ago. I remember very well that you were with him, too, but could make a lucky escape as I had his hide for his abuse!”

“Oh, mister!” begged the trembling little lamb, “I am but four weeks old and never even knew my father because he has been dead for so long. How could I atone for him?”

“You are an impudent one!” cried the wolf with feigned anger baring his teeth. “Dead or not, I surely know that your whole lineage hates me and for that I must take revenge.”

Without further ado, he tore apart the little lamb and wolfed it down.

The conscience stirs within the most evil villain; he seeks an excuse to sooth it when he commits his wickedness.

*****

Copyright fort he fable’s translation: TaleTellerin
Copyright for the image used: The wolf and the lamb, by Wenzel Hollar (1607-1677)

What pops out to me as a German who was born more than thirty years after the end of the second world war, is the nature of the excuse that Aesop gives as a case study here – making somebody pay for the sins of his father. Without a doubt the sins of our fathers (and mothers) have not been pretend-ones like in this fable but inhuman horrors. Still, I believe the question stands – how can my generation be still held responsible or rather be forced to feel emotionally responsible for the horror committed by the generation of our grandparents?

Since this comes mostly from within Germany, it seems to be an attempt to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. Great idea but in my opinion the totally wrong approach. Instead of provoking anger upon being forced to feel guilt for something we had no impact on, it would be much better to finally have an honest public discussion about what really happened and how it could happen. Especially since there are some terrifying parallels between what had been going on in the world in the 1920s – economically and politically – and what is going on now.

Speaking of which – do you think in your country (of birth and/or residence) such an honest discussion has taken place? If there was the need for one in the first place, obviously.

The Fox and the Grapes
by Aesop

One evening in autumn, a mouse and a sparrow sat beneath a grape-vine chatting about this and that. Suddenly, the sparrow chirped to his friend: “Hide yourself, the fox is coming!” And he himself quickly flew up into the vine’s foliage.

trying to get to those grapes

Somewhat angered, he tried his luck again. This time he took a giant leap but again he only caught empty air.

He tried a third time and he tried as hard as he could, jumping with all his might. Almost beside himself with greed, he snapped after the juicy grapes and stretched and stretched until fell down on his back. Not a single leaf had moved.

The sparrow who had silently observed the fox’s attempts until now, could no longer contain himself and chirped cheekily: “Mister fox, you have your sights set too high!”

The mouse peeked out from her hiding place and piped up: “Do not bother, you will never get the grapes.” And like an arrow she shot back into her mouse-hole.

The fox bit his teeth, turned up his nose and said loftily: “They are simply not ripe enough yet. I don’t like my grapes sour.” And with his head held high he pranced back into the forest.

Copyright for this fable’s translation: TaleTellerin
Copyright for image used: The Fox and the Grapes, from ”The Æsop for Children”,

*****

Re-reading this fable, I’m wondering about hens and eggs. Because has this one become a classic because it successfully and entertainingly embodies the lesson about over-ambition and pride which is at the heart of Western societies. Or has this critical stance on ambition and pride become central because it has been advocated in central socio-cultural texts such as these? Huh.

okay, it's actually a cork oak

The Story of a Turner

There once lived a turner who was in the habit of going into a forest which was some distance from his cottage to cut down wood to make spoons. One day as he was sawing a venerable old chestnut tree he noticed a deep hole in the tree, and being curious to see what was inside he unluckily penetrated within, and immediately an enchanted Moor came forward to meet him, and in angry tones at the intrusion said to him: “Since you have dared to penetrate into my palace I order you to bring me the first thing you shall meet on reaching your cottage, but take heed that you comply with my command, otherwise you will surely die within three days.” The turner now departed and went home, where he had three daughters and a little pet dog which always came to the door to meet him.

That day, however, contrary to her custom, as ill luck would have it, it was his eldest daughter, and not his dog, who came out to meet him. This of course so distressed him that he, weeping bitterly, told her what had happened to him and what the Moor had demanded from him. But he entreated her at the same time to go with him and give herself up to the Moor, for otherwise she and her sisters would remain without a supporter or protection.

The eldest daughter very unselfishly consented to go, and prepared to set out with her father; and after taking leave of her sisters she left home for the enchanted Moor’s palace. We shall now leave the turner and his two daughters and record how the Moor acted towards his eldest daughter.

As soon as the girl arrived at the tree and entered the enchanted Moor’s palace he gave her the keys of all the apartments, and at the same time he put round her neck a very fine gold chain with a key which belonged to a chamber into which he forbade her ever to enter under pain of death.

One day, however, the girl full of curiosity longed to enter and see for herself what was contained in that chamber, which it was so essential she should not find out. Unable to contain her curiosity she took the chain from her neck, and with the gold key opened the forbidden chamber.

Great, however, was her surprise and horror to find a number of bodies with their heads cut off. Much frightened and terror-struck at the fearful sight she immediately shut the door, and trusting not to be found out she put back the chain and key round her neck; but when the Moor returned to the palace the first thing he did was to look at the gold key hanging from her neck, and finding a tiny mark of blood upon it he knew what had happened, and without saying a word cut her head off that instant, and laid her down on the floor in the apartment with the other corpses.

A few days after this occurrence the turner, in hopes of seeing or hearing some news of his daughter, and desirous to know how she was getting on with the Moor, returned to the palace and inquired of him how his daughter was; to which he replied: “Go and fetch me your next daughter to be a companion to the one already here, as she feels very lonely and dull without her.” The turner went back for his second daughter and brought her to the Moor.

Like the first girl she received all the keys, and the chain with the one particular key which belonged to the chamber which she was never to attempt to open; but like her sister she also was led by her curiosity to the same fate, and had her head cut off by the Moor on account of her disobedience.

The turner as before called at the Moor’s palace to know how his daughters were, met with the same reply, and was ordered to bring his third daughter. This of course grieved the good honest man very much, who was loth to part with his only remaining daughter, but, fearing to disobey the Moor’s commands, he brought her also to him as desired. When she arrived in the palace the Moor gave her the same injunctions as he had given to her two sisters. But the girl did open and enter the forbidden chamber in spite of the command, and she saw her beheaded sisters, and although horrified she had sufficient courage to remain in the chamber and inspect everything in it. She touched her sisters’ bodies, and finding that they were still warm she felt a great desire to bring them back to life.

In this chamber there was a cupboard in which she found a number of earthenware pots containing blood; and, seeing that two of them had her sisters’ names upon them, she stuck the heads of her sisters to their bodies with the blood; and when she found that they adhered, and remained perfectly set, she wiped the blood off from their necks. When she had finished this operation her sisters came to life again. She, however, enjoined upon them perfect silence, telling them that she would manage to send them home to their father again, unknown to the Moor; whilst the sisters recommended her to wipe the key very carefully from any spot of blood, that the Moor might not discover what she had been doing.

The Moor returned home, and, not seeing any spot of blood upon the gold key, he did not, of course, suspect anything, and believing her to be an obedient loving wife he soon began to love her very much, until he idolized her to such a degree that he at last allowed himself to be domineered over by her, and she could rule him as she pleased; and thus he became a complete slave to her, and ready to do anything at her bidding.

One day she begged the Moor to take a barrel of sugar to her father, for he was very poor, and it would not come amiss to him. To this he readily agreed. She then put one of her sisters in the barrel, and desired the Moor to go quickly and return soon, as, said she, it was joyless to her to be long separated from him; and that to make sure he did not stop anywhere she would go up to the watch-tower and look after him all the way. Before the Moor set out on his journey with the barrel, she told her sister to repeat the following words all the way: “I can see you, dear, oh, I can see you, dear,” so that the Moor should believe that the voice came from her in the watch-tower. The girl who was hidden in the barrel obeyed her clever sister’s injunction, and continued to repeat the words in sweet tender tones: “I can see you, dear, oh, I can see you still, darling;” whilst the Moor, quite fascinated with his charmer, answered her most lovingly: “Magnificent eyes that can see so far; yes, I am running, dear;” and he ran until he reached the turner’s cottage. He left the barrel, and, after a few hurried words, turned towards home, running all the way.

Some days had elapsed when she again asked the Moor to take another barrel with provisions to her father; he again consented, and she sent her second sister home in the same manner as she had done the first.

She was now the only one remaining in the enchanted palace, and to extricate herself from the Moor was a much more difficult affair; but, as she was clever and quick at inventing, what do you think she thought of? She made up a figure with straw, dressed it up with her own clothes, and placed it in the watch-tower, as if she were looking out. She now told the Moor that another barrel was ready to take to her home, and that she would go up to the turret of the tower and watch for him until his return; then she secretly got inside the barrel, and whilst the Moor carried the barrel she went repeating the same words as her sisters had done: “Oh, I can see you, darling, yes, I can see you, quick, quick, dear;” and the Moor replied: “Yes, darling, I am running, I am running as fast as I can; beautiful eyes that can see so far.”

Thus did the three sisters find their way back to their father and home. When the Moor returned to his palace, and did not find the girl at the threshold ready to welcome him back, he ran up quickly into the watch-tower, and on endeavouring to embrace the straw figure, which he believed to be his bride, he missed his footing, and fell from the tower down to the ground, and was picked up quite dead.

The venerable chestnut tree and the palace immediately disappeared, for the whole had been but the work of enchantment.

Text source: Portuguese Stories. Translated by Miss Henriqueta Montriro. In: The Folk-lore Record, vol. 4 (1881).
Image source: Cork oak by Carlos de Braganca

*****

Football fever aside – this is such a wonderful fairy tale which to me feels ancient and modern at the same time. Obviously, the idea of having to hand over a token of obedience, the number three and all that resonates with old folklore. I can’t even pin down what feels modern to me… Maybe the way the story is told? Hmm.

The Khulan, the Crow and the Wolf

In times long ago, a khulan – that is a Mongolian wild ass –, a crow and a wolf lived together as brothers. One day they went in search of a new place to live and the crow said: “There is this place where every one of us would find plenty to eat. But there lives a skilled hunter with his bow and his traps. The traps would be a danger for us.”

little khulan all relaxed

Therefore the three friends moved to that place and for a while they lived there in peace. But one day the khulan got caught in a trap. As soon as the wolf heard about it, he hurried to get to the trapped animal before the crow would find him. When he arrived there, the wolf asked the khulan: “How did this happen?”

“How did I got caught in this trap? I don’t really know. I was just walking along when I suddenly fell into it,” the khulan answered, “How will I get out of it again?”

The wolf told him: “Jump up and down! You will surely be able to free yourself that way!” And with that the wolf left the khulan alone. He thought it would be better to wait a bit longer before eating the khulan and so he hid himself behind a bush.

But just then the crow came flying along and when she saw the khulan she asked her friend: “Why are you jumping up and down like that?”

“Why do I do it? I got caught in one of the hunter’s traps and the wolf came along and said: ‘Jump up and down and you will be free soon!’ That’s why I jump like this. But now my legs are hurting and I’m very tired,” the khulan said.

The crow gave him the following piece of advise: “Stop jumping up and down. You will break your legs and then you will probably die soon. You mustn’t move at all! Play dead! When the hunter believes that you’re dead already, he will set you free. And when he does, then you can flee. But you will have to run as fast as you can.” The khulan nodded and did what the crow had told him.

The crow flew up into the air, ever higher, and started circling above the ger of the hunter croaking to draw his attention. The experienced hunter thought: “Oh, an animal must have gotten caught in my trap.” And so he took his bow and his quiver and went to take a look.

In the meanwhile the wolf thought: “That annoying crow has come and opened the khulan’s eyes.” He got up to get back to the still trapped khulan when he caught sight of the approaching hunter. “Now the time has come to fill my belly,” the wolf said to himself and crouched behind the bush again.

When the hunter saw that it was a khulan who he had caught, he was very happy. And since he believed that the animal was dead, he set him free. Then he sat down to smoke his pipe. At this moment the khulan jumped up and ran away as fast as he could. The hunter shot many arrows after him. But because the khulan had run into the direction of the bush behind which the wolf hid himself, the arrows didn’t hit the khulan but the wolf who died when one of them hit him fatally at the head.

Copyright of the tale’s translation and narration: TaleTellerin
Copyright for image: picture taken by Snowyowls @ WikiMedia Commons

*****

Like in the animal tale The Dumb Wolf, it is the wolf’s presence and his role as men’s rival for food that shifts the mood of this tale from playful to a bit more serious. What do we learn from this? Rivalry? Not good.

The Baker’s Daughter

A very long time ago, I cannot tell you when, it is so long since, there lived in a town in Herefordshire a baker who used to sell bread to all the folk around. He was a mean, greedy man, who sought in every way to put money by, and who did not scruple to cheat such people as he was able when they came to his shop.

baking normal bread

One day when her father was away, and the girl remained alone in the shop, an old woman came in—

“My pretty girl,” said she, “give me a bit of dough I beg of you, for I am old and hungry.”

The girl at first told her to be off, but as the old woman would not go, and begged harder than before for a piece of bread, at last the baker’s daughter took up a piece of dough, and giving it to her, says—

“There now, be off, and do not trouble me any more.”

“My dear,” says the woman, “you have given me a piece of dough, let me bake it in your oven, for I have no place of my own to bake it in.”

“Very well,” replied the girl, and, taking the dough, she placed it in the oven, while the old woman sat down to wait till it was baked.

When the girl thought the bread should be ready she looked in the oven expecting to find there a small cake, and was very much amazed to find instead a very large loaf of bread. She pretended to look about the oven as if in search of something.

“I cannot find the cake,” said she. “It must have tumbled into the fire and got burnt.”

“Very well,” said the old woman, “give me another piece of dough instead and I will wait while it bakes.”

So the girl took another piece of dough, smaller than the first piece, and having put it in the oven, shut to the door. At the end of a few minutes or so she looked in again, and found there another loaf, larger than the last.

“Dear me,” said she, pretending to look about her, “I have surely lost the dough again. There’s no cake here.”

“‘Tis a pity,” said the old woman, “but never mind. I will wait while you bake me another piece.”

So the baker’s daughter took a piece of dough as small as one of her fingers and put it in the oven, while the old woman sat near. When she thought it ought to be baked, she looked into the oven and there saw a loaf, larger than either of the others.

“That is mine,” said the old woman.

“No,” replied the girl. “How could such a large loaf have grown out of a little piece of dough?”

“It is mine, it is sure,” said the woman.

“It is not,” said the girl, “and you shall not have it.”

Well, when the old woman saw that the girl would not give her the loaf, and saw how she had tried to cheat her, for she was a fairy, and knew all the tricks that the baker’s daughter had put upon her, she draws out from under her cloak a stick, and just touches the girl with it. Then a wonderful thing occurred, for the girl became all of a sudden changed into an owl, and flying about the room, at last, made for the door, and, finding it open, she flew out and was never seen again.

Text source: Folk-lore and legends. English. Edited by C. J. T. W.W. Gibbings. London 1890.
Image source: Woman baking bread, by Jean-Francois Millet

*****

I hope you agree that I am not to blame for the animal in this one. Totally came out of left field. And really – why an owl?

The Frog and the Mouse
by Martin Luther

A mouse would have liked to cross the water, alas she could not do it. So she asked the frog for help. The frog was a jokester and the mouse’s enemy and so he said to the mouse: “Tie your foot to my foot and I will swim across the water pulling you with me.”

But as they were in the water, the frog took a dive and wanted to drown the mouse. And while the mouse is struggling and fighting, a harrier comes a-flying, snatches the mouse with the frog still tied to her leg and eats them both.

This fable shows that the world is filled by evil and betrayal. But in the end, betrayal beats her master.

Copyright for the fable’s translation: TaleTellerin

*****

The jump from past tense to present tense is actually in the original text and it’s very interesting. Obviously, we know this from novels and stuff as a technique to quicken the pace so the reader is pulled in and left breathless. It’s interesting to see it in such a short text. Not sure it’s quite working.

The Poor Man and the Judge

Once upon a time there were two brothers who lived upon a piece of ground. The one was rich and the other poor. One day the poor brother went to the rich one to ask him to lend him a horse, so that he might carry wood from the forest. The rich brother lent him the horse, and then the poor one asked him to also let him have a collar for it. The rich man, however, got angry, and would not let him have one, and then it occurred to the poor man that he could fasten the sledge to the horse’s tail. Away he went to the forest to get his wood, and he got such a load that the horse could scarcely draw it. When he came home with it he opened the gate, but lie did not think of the board at the foot of the gate, and the horse tumbling over it tore its tail out!

...and the judge made his decision...

On their way the two brothers had to pass over a bridge, and the poor man, thinking that he should never return from the judge alive, jumped over it. It chanced that, just at that time, a man’s son was driving his sick father to the baths, and was passing under the bridge. The poor man fell upon the old man and killed him, and the son went off to the judge to complain of his father’s having been killed.

The rich brother, when he came to the judge, laid his complaint before him, telling him that his brother had pulled out his horse’s tail. Now the poor man had taken a stone and wrapped it in a cloth, and he stood with it in his hand, behind his brother, intending to kill the judge if he did not decide in his favour. The judge thought the man had brought a hundred roubles for him in the cloth, so he ordered the rich man to give his horse to the poor man until the tail was grown again.

Then came the son to complain to the judge of the poor man having slain his father. The poor man again took the stone wrapped in the cloth and showed it to the judge, who thought the man must there have two hundred roubles to give to him for deciding the case. So he ordered the son to take his place upon the bridge and the poor man to stand below. Then the son was to throw himself off the bridge on to the poor man and crush him to death.

The poor brother went to the rich one to take the horse without a tail, as the judge had ordered, so that he might keep it till the tail grew. The rich man, however, was not willing to lose his horse, so he gave the poor man five roubles, three bushels of corn, and a milch-goat, and so they settled the matter.

Then the poor man went off to the son, and said:

“According to the judgment you must stand on the bridge while I must stand underneath it, and then you must jump off and crush me to death.”

Then thought the son:

“Who knows whether if I jump off the bridge I may not, instead of crushing him to death, kill myself?”

So he thought it would be best to come to an arrangement with the poor man, and he gave him two hundred roubles, a horse, and five bushels of corn.

After this the judge, Schemyaka, sent his servant to the poor man to ask him for two hundred roubles. The poor man showed him the stone, and said:

“If the judge had not decided for me I should have killed him with it.”

When the servant came back to the judge and told him that, he crossed himself:

“Thank Heaven,” said he, “I decided as he wished!”

*****

em>Text source: Folk-lore and legends, Russian and Polish. J.B. Lippincott, 1891.
Image source: “Smeden og bageren”, an illustration by Theodor Kittelsen for a poem by Johan Herman Wessel

Well. Looking at the world today – this one explains a lot. For better or worse.

The Donkey and the Fox
by Aesop

A donkey and a fox lived together as friends for years upon year and also went hunting together. On one of their forays they so suddenly happened upon a lion that the fox feared that he would not have time to flee. So he took to a trick. With factitious friendliness he said to the lion:

“I have nothing to fear from you, most noble king! But if I may offer you my stupid friend’s meat, do just give the order.”

The lion promised him mercy and the fox lead the donkey into a pit in which he was caught.

Roaring the lion rushed upon the fox and snatched him with the words: “The donkey is a safe bet for me but you I tear apart first for your deceitfulness.”

One certainly makes the most of treason but one still does not love the traitor

*****

Copyright for the fable’s translation: TaleTellerin
Copyright for image used: depiction of Aesop from the Nuremberg Chronicle (1483)

It might be the fact that I have too much to do with Genghis Khan in my real life but that line of moral there? Pretty much sums up how he did it. If you tried to buy yourself safety by betraying your own king/master then he would happily listen and then kill you. After all, what guarantee can there be that you wouldn’t betray him, too, if the pressure was there?

Thus this fable’s moral to me would be a more believable Genghis Khan quote than all those “I am the punishment of God”-blahs that make twitter buzz.