XVIII.
THE FEAST.
There was once a husbandman who had laborers in a valley, clearing it of
stones and brush, that it might become fit for culture. He resided near,
on a fine hill, where he raised rare fruits and flowers of every variety.
The view from the hill-top was extensive and grand beyond description,
and it was the kind owner's desire that each day the laborers should
ascend and be refreshed by whatever he had to offer them, beside catching
the inspiration of the lovely and extensive landscape. Some days he had
not much to offer them; at other times, the repast would be sumptuous and
most tempting: so those who went each day were sure of receiving in their
season the delicious fruits which ripened at different periods.
There had been a succession of days in which there was nothing but
dry food on the hill, with none of the luscious fruits which invigorate
and refresh; for they had been slow in ripening, and the kind husbandman
would not gather them before they were mellow and fit to spread before
his laborers.
"_I_ am not going to climb the hill to-day for a few crumbs," said one
dissatisfied toiler, as he sat by the roadside at noon-day, looking very
unhappy.
"Nor I!" "Nor I!" added a second and a third, until there was quite
a chorus of the dissatisfied.
The remainder went up as usual. A most tempting repast was before
them, of fruits and cake and refreshing wines, while the table was decked
with rare and fragrant flowers.
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