le that no one
mes, the an
, and hunger ma
in secret
e ground her tre
ant was dryi
e dew had w
it again; an
r sacks as it
n, and tears be
very cold; t
is way and
ger. Of your
bag, and
nd its melons
ittle corn."
he ant will
. Great sacks, b
scrape some
mer: starve, fo
he ancient
all the pr
tchers, glad to
ir purses. M
the guts of a
, this fable
winter tho
orn-thou dost n
thou eat it,
ountain with it
matters winte
children, sh
knows no waking
fallen fro
uesting ant has
t of thy poor
makes; in
up, and emptie
ee where in w
en the winter
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