Once upon a time a Wolf was lapping at a spring on a hillside, when, looking up, what should he see but a Goat just beginning to drink a little lower down. "There's my supper," thought he, "if only I can find some excuse to seize it."
Then he called out to the Goat, "How dare you muddle the water from which I am drinking?"
"Nay, master, nay," said the Goat; "if the water be muddy up there, I cannot be the cause of it, for it runs down from you to me."
"Well, then," said the Wolf, "why did you call me bad names this time last year?"
"That cannot be," said the Goat; "I am only six months old."
"I don't care," snarled the Wolf; "if it was not you it was your father;" and with that he rushed upon the poor little Goat and ate her all up. But before she died she gasped out:
Any excuse will serve a tyrant
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