brood

AN OX drinking at a pool trod on a brood of young frogs and crushed one of them to death.

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.

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.”

“Ah,” said the jailer, “do not always brood over what is impossible, or you will be mad in a fortnight.”