AESOP'S FABLES

The Thirsty Crow – AESOP’S FABLES (little by little does the trick / necessity is the mother of invention)


A crow was cursed with such a thirst

He feared that he would die.

When he beheld a pitcher filled

With water finger-high.

But this, though he might stretch and strain,

Was much too low for him to gain.

 

“There is no way!” a gloomy jay

Commented as he stared.

But said the crow, “No fruit is plucked

By one who never dared.”

And so he set about to fill

The jar with pebbles from his bill.

 

First two, then four and then a score

One after one he dropped,

And others still and other still,

With zeal that never stopped,

And others, others, though as yet

He gaping bill remained unwet.

 

But bit by bit, thanks to his wit,

The water level rose,

Until it finally had saved

This wisest of the crows.

For piled-up pebbles may create

The towers and the hills of fate.

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