Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695) was a French writer of fables and one of the most widely read French poets of the 17th century. His Fables provided a model for subsequent fabulists across Europe and numerous versions in France, as well as in French regional languages.
The Fox and the Stork was written around 1668. It is part of La Fontaine’s first collection of fables, titled Fables Choisies, Mises en Vers. It’s a dramatic story; I thought I’d tweak it a bit.
Once upon a time there lived an uncultured Fox who loved to deceive his friends. One day, he invited the Constipated Stork for dinner. It was a simple meal of broth — the Fox may be cunning, but he was cheap. He served the broth on shallow flat plates.
The Constipated Stork, who had a long beak, had great difficulty getting even a drop of the broth. The Fox found this very funny and could barely hide his glee as he lapped up his meal noisily. Dinner ended, the Stork barely got a taste of the broth, and he went home with revenge on his mind.
So one day, the Constipated Stork invites the Fox over for dinner.
“You will just love what I picked from the North,” the Stork said.
“I can’t wait!” said the Fox. On entering the house he noted a beatific smell that filled the room, the glorious odor of cooked viand, or was it veal (I never could tell, was that from France?), and the food served…
…in Dulcolax bottles.
“Ah,” said the Fox, “Ran out of long necked bottles?”
“No,” said the Constipated Stork, “They’re still there, just drying.”
“You know these are wide mouthed plastic medicine bottles.”
The Constipated Stork nodded.
“You know I can just get the stuff out and eat it like this,” said the Fox as he smugly shook out pieces of luscious cooked meat and stuffed them one after another into his mouth.
“I can see that, of course,” said the Constipated Stork watching as the Fox consumed the meat on his plate.
When the Fox was done, the Constipated Stork asked him, “I feel stupid to ask though, seeing how simple you are with all things culinary, but I have to: how did you like my latest creation? I truly welcome your feedback.”
“Magnifique! The veal, or viand, I never could tell, was your best yet! I didn’t think you were stupid to repeat a prank. But why did you have to put the meat in Dulcolax bottles?”
“That wasn’t meat.”
The Fox retched, scurried home, tail between the legs.
Moral of the story: not all that glitters is glit, not all that shimmers is — shiny.
(Q.C. 230408)










