Fables of La Source ✓

The Goat and the Chicken with golden seeds

Once upon a time

In a small dialect's rhyme,

A lovely goat with silky fur,

Lived a happy dream, no stir,

In a quaint old house of yore,

Amidst the woods, by a pond's shore.

Miss Goat, for that was her name,

Worked as an herbalist of some fame,

Fed on herbs and fresh stream,

Woke early to tend to her dream.

She'd gather plants each day,

Be they sticky or give a high sway,

And sell them at the market fair,

Earning pennies with each care.

One day, on her path, she did witness,

A true spectacle of villainous business.

A poor plucked chicken, in dire straits,

By toads in rags met awful fates.

Miss Goat, without a moment's pause,

Jumped into action for the cause,

With a few kicks of her hooves,

She made the beggars quickly move.

Once the ruffians were gone,

The young chicken thanked her for her brawn:

"Thank you, Miss, I don't know what might've been,

If those rogues had taken all my colorful sheen.

To thank you, let me give you my treasure dear,

In this little box, golden seeds appear."

And with these words, Mr. Chicken did depart,

Dancing joyfully with a happy heart,

"Tap dancing and pullets," he sang with cheer,

As he disappeared, his song rang clear.

Miss Goat, perplexed by this strange event,

Took the box and back to her barn she went.

In her little house, she opened the case,

And golden seeds she did embrace.

Miss Goat decided to plant them all,

Right by her window, near her apple tree tall.

However, came the next dawn,

Miss Goat was awakened by a noises on her lawn.

She ran to her window and was aghast,

Seeing the havoc in her garden so vast.

Thieves were wrecking her plants with sticks,

Pillaging, burning, causing a fix,

Trying hard to seize and take,

The trunk of the tree with a golden flake.

Miss Goat shook her head and packed all her gear,

In a big green chest with no tear,

And left her home with no looking back,

Into the forest, on a new track,

Ignoring the chaos, the noise so near.

This moral, though it may appear queer,

Will clearly help you understand, dear readers,

That in good time, at the hour,

Never accept gifts from strangers aged,

Especially those who are naked.

Célestin de La Source