The boy and the schoolmaster
I made a song out of the fable “The Boy and the Schoolmaster” by Jean De La Fontaine, that french writer from the 17th century.
And here’s the story:
A boy, that frolicked on the banks of Seine,
Fell in, and would have found a watery grave,
Had not that hand that plants never in vain
A willow planted there, his life to save.
While hanging by its branches as he might,
A certain sage preceptor came in sight;
To whom the urchin cried, “Save, or I’m drowned!”
The master, turning gravely at the sound,
Thought proper for a while to stand aloof,
And give the boy some seasonable reproof.
“You little wretch! this comes of foolish playing,
Commands and precepts disobeying.
A naughty rogue, no doubt, you are,
Who thus requite your parents care.
Alas! their lot I pity much,
Whom fate condemns to watch over such.”
This having coolly said, and more,
He pulled the drowning lad ashore.