"Just my luck!" he growled, "I never wish for anything without getting
it. I did not expect this when I came out this morning, and have
nothing prepared. But I suppose I shall have to stand it."
So he spread his pinions and made for the first open flower he saw.
But a spider happened to be spending the summer in that vegetable, and
it was not long before Mr. Butterfly was wishing himself back atop of
that pole, a simple caterpillar.
He had at last the pleasure of being denied a desire.
_Haec fabula docet_ that it is not a good plan to call at houses
without first ascertaining who is at home there.
IX.
It is related of a certain Tartar priest that, being about to
sacrifice a pig, he observed tears in the victim's eyes.
"Now, I'd like to know what is the matter with _you_?" he asked.
"Sir," replied the pig, "if your penetration were equal to that of the
knife you hold, you would know without inquiring; but I don't mind
telling you. I weep because I know I shall be badly roasted."
"Ah," returned the priest, meditatively, having first killed the pig,
"we are all pretty much alike: it is the bad roasting that frightens
us. Mere death has no terrors."
From this narrative learn that even priests sometimes get hold of only
half a truth.
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