The Gardener And His Master

: Literary Fables Of Yriarte

A copious fountain played

In a garden's flowery bed,

And served to form a basin

Where many fish were fed.

Of the watering of his flowers

The Gardener thought alone;

And drained it dry, till due supply

For carp and tench was gone.

His Master soon the mischief saw,

And scolds the careless sinner.

"The f
owers I love; but also like

My mess of fish for dinner."

The Gardener, grown crusty,

So reads his Master's whim,

That he lets the plants go thirsty,

That carp and tench may swim.

In the garden, shortly after,

The indignant owner found

His flowers, all dry and withered,

Upon the parching ground.

"Booby! you need not water waste,

And leave me not a fish to taste;

Nor yet deny--to save the fish--

A single flower to grace the dish,"

* * * * *

Though the maxim may be trite,--

Unless you have the skill,

Taste and profit to unite,--

Lay by the author's quill.