The Battle of the Rats and Weasels

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  "source_title": "The Battle of the Rats and Weasels",
  "tts_title": "The Battle of the Rats and Weasels",
  "title": "The Battle of the Rats and Weasels",
  "slug": "battle-rats-weasels",
  "url": "https://fairytalez.com/battle-rats-weasels/",
  "collection": "La Fontaine",
  "published_date": "January 17, 2015",
  "regions": [
    "French"
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  "reading_level": "Easy",
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    "The weasels live, no more than cats, On terms of friendship with the rats; And, were it not that these Through doors contrive to squeeze Too narrow for their foes, The animals long-snouted Would long ago have routed, And from the planet scouted Their race, as I suppose. One year it did betide, When they were multiplied, An army took the field Of rats, with spear and shield, Whose crowded ranks led on A king named Ratapon. The weasels, too, their banner Unfurl’d in warlike manner. As Fame her trumpet sounds, The victory balanced well; Enrich’d were fallow grounds Where slaughter’d legions fell; But by said trollop’s tattle, The loss of life in battle Thinn’d most the rattish race In almost every place; And finally their rout Was total, spite of stout Artarpax and Psicarpax, And valiant Meridarpax, Who, cover’d o’er with dust, Long time sustain’d their host Down sinking on the plain. Their efforts were in vain; Fate ruled that final hour, (Inexorable power!) And so the captains fled As well as those they led; The princes perish’d all. The undistinguish’d small In certain holes found shelter; In crowding, helter-skelter; But the nobility Could not go in so free, Who proudly had assumed Each one a helmet plumed; We know not, truly, whether For honour’s sake the feather, Or foes to strike with terror; But, truly, ’twas their error. Nor hole, nor crack, nor crevice Will let their head-gear in; While meaner rats in bevies An easy passage win;— So that the shafts of fate Do chiefly hit the great. A feather in the cap Is oft a great mishap. An equipage too grand Comes often to a stand Within a narrow place. The small, whate’er the case, With ease slip through a strait, Where larger folks must wait."
  ],
  "body_text": "The weasels live, no more than cats, On terms of friendship with the rats; And, were it not that these Through doors contrive to squeeze Too narrow for their foes, The animals long-snouted Would long ago have routed, And from the planet scouted Their race, as I suppose. One year it did betide, When they were multiplied, An army took the field Of rats, with spear and shield, Whose crowded ranks led on A king named Ratapon. The weasels, too, their banner Unfurl’d in warlike manner. As Fame her trumpet sounds, The victory balanced well; Enrich’d were fallow grounds Where slaughter’d legions fell; But by said trollop’s tattle, The loss of life in battle Thinn’d most the rattish race In almost every place; And finally their rout Was total, spite of stout Artarpax and Psicarpax, And valiant Meridarpax, Who, cover’d o’er with dust, Long time sustain’d their host Down sinking on the plain. Their efforts were in vain; Fate ruled that final hour, (Inexorable power!) And so the captains fled As well as those they led; The princes perish’d all. The undistinguish’d small In certain holes found shelter; In crowding, helter-skelter; But the nobility Could not go in so free, Who proudly had assumed Each one a helmet plumed; We know not, truly, whether For honour’s sake the feather, Or foes to strike with terror; But, truly, ’twas their error. Nor hole, nor crack, nor crevice Will let their head-gear in; While meaner rats in bevies An easy passage win;— So that the shafts of fate Do chiefly hit the great. A feather in the cap Is oft a great mishap. An equipage too grand Comes often to a stand Within a narrow place. The small, whate’er the case, With ease slip through a strait, Where larger folks must wait.",
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    "The weasels live, no more than cats, On terms of friendship with the rats; And, were it not that these Through doors contrive to squeeze Too narrow for their foes, The animals long-snouted Would long ago have routed, And from the planet scouted Their race, as I suppose. One year it did betide, When they were multiplied, An army took the field Of rats, with spear and shield, Whose crowded ranks led on A king named Ratapon. The weasels, too, their banner Unfurl'd in warlike manner. As Fame her trumpet sounds, The victory balanced well; Enrich'd were fallow grounds Where slaughter'd legions fell; But by said trollop's tattle, The loss of life in battle Thinn'd most the rattish race In almost every place; And finally their rout Was total, spite of stout Artarpax and Psicarpax, And valiant Meridarpax, Who, cover'd o'er with dust, Long time sustain'd their host Down sinking on the plain. Their efforts were in vain; Fate ruled that final hour, (Inexorable power!) And so the captains fled As well as those they led; The princes perish'd all. The undistinguish'd small In certain holes found shelter; In crowding, helter-skelter; But the nobility Could not go in so free, Who proudly had assumed Each one a helmet plumed; We know not, truly, whether For honour's sake the feather, Or foes to strike with terror; But, truly, 'twas their error. Nor hole, nor crack, nor crevice Will let their head-gear in; While meaner rats in bevies An easy passage win; - So that the shafts of fate Do chiefly hit the great. A feather in the cap Is oft a great mishap. An equipage too grand Comes often to a stand Within a narrow place. The small, whate'er the case, With ease slip through a strait, Where larger folks must wait."
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  "clean_text": "The weasels live, no more than cats, On terms of friendship with the rats; And, were it not that these Through doors contrive to squeeze Too narrow for their foes, The animals long-snouted Would long ago have routed, And from the planet scouted Their race, as I suppose. One year it did betide, When they were multiplied, An army took the field Of rats, with spear and shield, Whose crowded ranks led on A king named Ratapon. The weasels, too, their banner Unfurl'd in warlike manner. As Fame her trumpet sounds, The victory balanced well; Enrich'd were fallow grounds Where slaughter'd legions fell; But by said trollop's tattle, The loss of life in battle Thinn'd most the rattish race In almost every place; And finally their rout Was total, spite of stout Artarpax and Psicarpax, And valiant Meridarpax, Who, cover'd o'er with dust, Long time sustain'd their host Down sinking on the plain. Their efforts were in vain; Fate ruled that final hour, (Inexorable power!) And so the captains fled As well as those they led; The princes perish'd all. The undistinguish'd small In certain holes found shelter; In crowding, helter-skelter; But the nobility Could not go in so free, Who proudly had assumed Each one a helmet plumed; We know not, truly, whether For honour's sake the feather, Or foes to strike with terror; But, truly, 'twas their error. Nor hole, nor crack, nor crevice Will let their head-gear in; While meaner rats in bevies An easy passage win; - So that the shafts of fate Do chiefly hit the great. A feather in the cap Is oft a great mishap. An equipage too grand Comes often to a stand Within a narrow place. The small, whate'er the case, With ease slip through a strait, Where larger folks must wait.",
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    "The weasels live, no more than cats, On terms of friendship with the rats; And, were it not that these Through doors contrive to squeeze Too narrow for their foes, The animals long-snouted Would long ago have routed, And from the planet scouted Their race, as I suppose. One year it did betide, When they were multiplied, An army took the field Of rats, with spear and shield, Whose crowded ranks led on A king named Ratapon. The weasels, too, their banner Unfurl'd in warlike manner.",
    "As Fame her trumpet sounds, The victory balanced well; Enrich'd were fallow grounds Where slaughter'd legions fell; But by said trollop's tattle, The loss of life in battle Thinn'd most the rattish race In almost every place; And finally their rout Was total, spite of stout Artarpax and Psicarpax, And valiant Meridarpax, Who, cover'd o'er with dust, Long time sustain'd their host Down sinking on the plain. Their efforts were in vain; Fate ruled that final hour, (Inexorable power!) And so the captains fled As well as those they led; The princes perish'd all.",
    "The undistinguish'd small In certain holes found shelter; In crowding, helter-skelter; But the nobility Could not go in so free, Who proudly had assumed Each one a helmet plumed; We know not, truly, whether For honour's sake the feather, Or foes to strike with terror; But, truly, 'twas their error. Nor hole, nor crack, nor crevice Will let their head-gear in; While meaner rats in bevies An easy passage win; - So that the shafts of fate Do chiefly hit the great. A feather in the cap Is oft a great mishap. An equipage too grand Comes often to a stand Within a narrow place. The small, whate'er the case, With ease slip through a strait, Where larger folks must wait."
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