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THE OWL AND THE ECHO
 AN owl, puffed up with pride and vanity,
was repeating his doleful cries at midnight
from the hollow of an old oak. "How is
it," he said, "that silence prevails in these
woods, unless it be to allow my melodious
voice to be heard with effect? Surely the
groves are charmed with my voice! and
when I sing, all nature listens."
An echo repeated the words, "All nature
"The nightingale has usurped my rights,"
continued the owl?" his note is sweet it
is true; but mine is much more melodious."
" Much more melodious," repeated the
Excited by approval, the owl, at the
rising of the sun, instead of going to sleep
as usual, continued to join his horrible
hooting with the matin songs of other
birds. But they were disgusted by the
sounds, and with one consent attacked the
owl and drove him from their society,
 harassing him wherever he appeared, so
that to escape from them he was glad to
avoid the light and return to obscurity.
Vain people fancy that their imaginary
perfections are the cause of admiration in
others, and mistake their self-flattery for
the voice of fame.