Page:Fables of Aesop and other eminent mythologists.djvu/162

108 Ah, ays he, You may Hang there ‘till Your Heart Akes; for if you were but a Dih Clout, as you are a Counterfeiting-Devil of a Cat, here's not a Creature will come Near ye.

Pon the Deceae of a Lyon of Late Famous Memory, the Beats Met in Councel to Chue a King. There were Several Put up; but One was not of a Make for a King, Another Wanted either Brains, or Strength, or Stature, or Humour, or omething ele; but in fine, the Buffon Ape with his Grimaces and Gamboles, carry‘d it from the Whole Field by I know not how many Voices. The Fox (being one of the Pretenders) Stomach'd it Extremely to ee the Choice go againt him, and preently Rounds the New-Elect in the Ear, with a piece of Secret Service that he could do him. Sir, ays he, I have Dicoverd ome Hidden Treaure Yonder: But tis a Royalty that belongs to Your Majety, and I have nothing to do with it. So he Carryd the Ape to take Poeion: And what hould This Treaure be, but a Bayte in a Ditch. The Ape lays his Hand upont, and the Trap