Two _Pots_.
There were _Two Pots_ that stood near One Another by the Side of a River,
the One of _Brass_, and the Other of _Clay_. The Water overflow’d the
Banks, and Carry’d them both away: The _Earthen Vessel_ kept Aloof from
T’other, as much as Possible. Fear Nothing, says the _Brass Pot_, I’ll do
you No Hurt: No, No, says T’other, not willingly; but if we should happen
to Knock by Chance, ’twould be the same Thing to Me: So that You and I
shall never do well together.
The MORAL.
_Unequal Fellowships and Alliances are Dangerous. Not but that Great and
Small, Hard and Brittle, Rich and Poor, may sort Well enough together so
long as the Good Humour Lasts; but wherever there are Men there will be
Clashing some time or other, and a Knock, or a Contest spoils All._