The Life of Jean Henri Fabre 



ing me to read. I should have succeeded by other 

 means, I do not doubt, but not so quickly or pleas- 

 antly. Animals for ever! 



Luck favoured me a second time. As a reward 

 for my prowess I was given La Fontaine's Fables, 

 in a popular, cheap edition, crammed with pic- 

 tures, small, I admit, and very inaccurate, but 

 still delightful. Here were the crow, the fox, the 

 wolf, the magpie, the frog, the rabbit, the ass, the 

 dog, the cat; all persons of my acquaintance. The 

 glorious book was immensely to my taste, with its 

 skimpy illustrations in which the animal walked 

 and talked. As to understanding what it said, 

 that was another story. Never mind, my lad! 

 Put together syllables that say nothing to you yet; 

 they will speak to you later and La Fontaine will 

 always remain your friend. 1 



1 Souvenirs, iv., pp. 50-60; The Life of the Fly., chap, 

 vi., "My Schooling." 



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