A VINE was luxuriant in the time of vintage with leaves and grapes. —
A Goat, passing by, nibbled its young tendrils and its leaves. —
The Vine addressed him and said: —
“Why do you thus injure me without a cause, and crop my leaves? —
Is there no young grass left? —
But I shall not have to wait long for my just revenge; —
for if you now should crop my leaves, and cut me down to my root, I shall provide the wine to pour over you when you are led as a victim to the sacrifice.”