A GOURD was once planted close beside a large and noble Pine Tree.
The season was kindly, and the Gourd shot itself up in a short time,
climbing by the boughs and twining about them, till it covered and
overtopped the Tree itself.
The leaves were so large and the flowers and fruit so fair that the
Gourd, comparing them with the slender needles of the Pine, had the
assurance to think itself of greater value in the comparison.
“Why,” said the Gourd, “you have been more years in growing to this
stature than I have been days.”
“That is true,” said the Pine; “but after the many winters and summers
that I have endured, the many blasting colds and parching heats, you
see me the very same that I was long years ago. Nothing has overcome
me. But when your race is put to the proof, the first blight or frost
is sure to bring down that pride of yours. In an hour you are stripped
of all your glory.”