The Fox and the Crow

A crow, perched in a tree with a piece of cheese in his beak, attracted
the eye and nose of a fox. "If you can sing as prettily as you sit," said the
fox, "then you are the prettiest singer within my scent and sight." The fox had
read somewhere, and somewhere, and somewhere else, that praising the voice
of a crow with a cheese in his beak would make him drop the cheese and
sing. But this is not what happened to this particular crow in this particular
case.

"They say you are sly and they say you are crazy," said the crow, having
carefully removed the cheese from his beak with the claws of one foot,
"but you must be nearsighted as well. Warblers wear gay hats and colored
jackets and bright vest, and they are a dollar a hundred. I wear black and I
am unique.


"I am sure you are," said the fox, who was neither crazy nor nearsighted,
but sly. "I recognize you, now that I look more closely, as the most famed

and talented of all birds, and I fain would hear you tell about yourself, but
I am hungry and must go."

"Tarry awhile," said the crow quickly, "and share my lunch with
me." Whereupon he tossed the cunning fox the lion's share of the cheese, and
began to tell about himself. "A ship that sails without a crow's nest sails
to doom," he said. "Bars may come and bars may go, but crow bars last
forever. I am the pioneer of flight, I am the map maker. Last, but never least,
my flight is known to scientists and engineers, geometricians, and scholar,
as the shortest distance between two points. Any two points," he concluded
arrogantly.


"Oh, every two points, I am sure," said the fox. "And thank you for the
lion's share of what I know you could not spare." And with this he trotted
away into the woods, his appetite appeased, leaving the hungry crow
perched forlornly in the tree.