The Fox and the Crow

"She just gave one squall,
When the cheese she let fall,
And the fox ran away with his prize."
JANE TAYLOR.

"My dear," said Mrs. Curtis, one Monday morning, "I offered Colonel
Keith a seat in the carriage to go to the annual book-club meeting with
us. Mr. Spicer is going to propose him as a member of the club, you
know, and I thought the close carriage would be better for him. I
suppose you will be ready by eleven; we ought to set out by that time,
not to hurry the horses."

"I am not going," returned Rachel, an announcement that electrified her
auditors, for the family quota of books being quite insufficient for
her insatiable appetite, she was a subscriber on her own account, and
besides, this was the grand annual gathering for disposing of old books,
when she was relied on for purchasing all the nuts that nobody else
would crack. The whole affair was one of the few social gatherings
that she really tolerated and enjoyed, and her mother gazed at her in
amazement.

"I wrote to Mrs. Spicer a month ago to take my name off. I have no
superfluous money to spend on my selfish amusement."

"But Rachel," said Grace, "did you not particularly want--oh! that fat
red book which came to us uncut?"

"I did, but I must do without it."

"Poor Mr. Spicer, he reckoned on you to take it; indeed, he thought you
had promised him."

"If there is anything like a promise, I suppose it must be done, but I
do not believe there is. I trust to you, Grace, you know I have nothing
to waste."