A Gardener’s Dog happened by some mischance to fall into the well: his
Master ran immediately to his assistance; but when helping him out, the
surly brute bit his hand. The Gardener took this ungrateful treatment
so ill, that he shook him off, and left him to shift for himself. Thou
wicked wretch! said he, to injure the hand that was stretched forth to
save thy life! The hand of thy Master, who has hitherto fed and taken
care of thee! Die there as thou deservest; for so base and unnatural a
creature is not fit to live.