A HALF-FAMISHED JACKDAW seated himself on a fig-tree, which had

　　produced some fruit entirely1 out of season, and waited in the

　　hope that the figs2 would ripen3. A Fox seeing him sitting so long

　　and learning the reason of his doing so, said to him, "You are

　　indeed, sir, sadly deceiving yourself; you are indulging a hope

　　strong enough to cheat you, but which will never reward you with

　　enjoyment."