A simple meal eaten in peace is better than a banquet eaten in fear and trembling.
THE FOX AND THE GRAPES
One hot summer day the fox hunted for miles and miles without seeing a bird, a rabbit, or even a tiny mouse. In the heat of the noonday sun he looked for a shady glen in which to rest his dusty, tired feet.
"Oh, I'd like a cool, cool drink, or some delicious fruit with which to quench my thirst," said the fox, as his tongue hung from his parched jaws.
Ahead a green garden loomed — as fresh and sparkling as could be. On a white trellis hung the most fragrant, luscious grapes he had ever seen.
Round and purple — the large grapes hung in heavy clusters — just the very thing for his noon refreshment.
Standing very tall upon his hind legs, the fox could not reach the sweet, juicy grapes.
Then taking a running start, the fox leaped high into the air — and with wide jaws snapped at the lowest bunch of grapes.
He missed! He didn't jump high enough even for the lowest cluster.
The fox tried again and again — and still again. He missed each time. Now he was so weary and even more thirsty that he turned away.
With his bushy tail high in the air, he left the garden; he grumbled, "Sour grapes, just sour grapes, I didn't want them anyway."