An Fhuiseog agus a hÁl
Bhí fuiseog agus nead aici i ngort. D'imíodh sí amach
gach lá ag soláthar don ál bheag a bhí sa nead aici.
Lá dá raibh sí amuigh tháinig fear an ghoirt agus a mhac
agus d'airigh na héin bheaga ag caint iad.
"Is cinnte, a mhic ó," arsa an fear, "go bhfuil
an gort so aibigh. Ní foláir é bhaint. Imigh agus
bailigh na comharsana agus bíodh siad anseo agat ar maidin
amárach go mbainimid é."
Nuair tháinig an fhuiseog abhaile d'inis na héin bheaga dí cad
é a dúirt an fear, "agus cad é dhéanfaidh muid!" ar siad.
"Marófar sinn!"
"Ní baol daoibh," ar sise. D'imigh sí lá arna mhárach
ag soláthar mar an gcéadna.
Tháinig an fear agus a mhac chun an arbhair a bhaint ach ní
tháinig aon chomharsa, agus nuair nach dtáinig aon chuidiú ní
dhearna siad aon obair. D'fhan siad go headra ag feitheamh.
Ansan dúirt an t-athair:-
"Is beag an tairbhe bheith ag feitheamh leo seo," ar seisean.
"Imigh ag triall ar ár ndaoine muinteartha agus bíodh siad anseo
agat ar maidin go mbainimid an pháirc seo."
Tháinig an fhuiseog abhaile agus d'inis na héin bheaga an
chaint sin dí, agus sceon ionta. "Glacaigh bhur suaimhneas," ar
sise. "Níl baol orainn."
D'imigh sí arís ar maidin ag soláthar. Tháinig an fear agus
a mhac, acht ní tháinig aon duine muinteartha. D'fhan an bheirt
ag feitheamh go headra agus ina dhiaidh.
Ansan do labhair an t-athair. "Is amhlaidh mar atá an scéal,
a mhic ó," ar seisean, "caithfimid féin an obair do dhéanamh. Dá
dtosaímis ar maidin inné bhéadh a fhormhór déanta againn um
an dtaca so. Ach is fearr déanaí ná ró dhéanaí. Téanaimid
abhaile anois go dté muid a chodladh in am agus beidh muid
anseo ar éirí lae ar maidin agus bainfimid féin an gort."
Tháinig an fhuiseog abhaile. "Cad dúradh inniu?" ar sise.
"Dúirt an fear," ar siad, "go mbéadh sé féin agus a mhac
anseo ar éirí lae ar maidin agus go mbainfidís féin an gort."
"Dar fia, a chlann ó," ar sise, "ní foláir dúinn bheith ag
gluaiseacht. Bainfear an gort amárach."
An Múineadh.
An té bheidh ag brath ar an bhfear thall chum a ghnoithe dhéanamh,
beidh an gnoithe déanamh aige.
The Lark and her Young Ones
A lark had made her nest in the early spring on the young green wheat. The brood had almost grown to their full strength and attained the use of their wings and the full plumage of their feathers, when the owner of the field, looking over his ripe crop, said, “The time has come when I must ask all my neighbors to help me with my harvest.” One of the young Larks heard his speech and related it to his mother, inquiring of her to what place they should move for safety. “There is no occasion to move yet, my son,” she replied; “the man who only sends to his friends to help him with his harvest is not really in earnest.” The owner of the field came again a few days later and saw the wheat shedding the grain from excess of ripeness. He said, “I will come myself tomorrow with my laborers, and with as many reapers as I can hire, and will get in the harvest.” The Lark on hearing these words said to her brood, “It is time now to be off, my little ones, for the man is in earnest this time; he no longer trusts his friends, but will reap the field himself.”
Lesson Self-help is the best help.
Lesson Self-help is the best help.