The Mischievous Dog (Aesop's Fables)
The Mischievous Dog (George Fyler Townsend's Version)
A Dog used to run up quietly to the heels of everyone he met, and to bite them without notice. His master suspended a bell about his neck so that the Dog might give notice of his presence wherever he went. Thinking it a mark of distinction, the Dog grew proud of his bell and went tinkling it all over the marketplace. One day an old hound said to him: “Why do you make such an exhibition of yourself? That bell that you carry is not, believe me, any order of merit, but on the contrary a mark of disgrace, a public notice to all men to avoid you as an ill mannered dog.”
Notoriety is often mistaken for fame.
(From the book Three Hundred Æsop’s Fables Literally Translated from the Greek by the Rev. George Fyler Townsend, M.A. — Public Domain)
The Mischievous Dog (V. S. Vernon Jones's Version)
There was once a Dog who used to snap at people and bite them without any provocation, and who was a great nuisance to every one who came to his master's house. So his master fastened a bell round his neck to warn people of his presence. The Dog was very proud of the bell, and strutted about tinkling it with immense satisfaction. But an old dog came up to him and said, "The fewer airs you give yourself the better, my friend. You don't think, do you, that your bell was given you as a reward of merit? On the contrary, it is a badge of disgrace."
Notoriety is often mistaken for fame.
(From the book Aesop's Fables: A New Translation by V. S. Vernon Jones, with an introduction by G. K. Chesterton and illustrations by Arthur Rackham — Public Domain)
The Mischievous Dog (Milo Winter's Version)
There was once a Dog who was so ill-natured and mischievous that his Master had to fasten a heavy wooden clog about his neck to keep him from annoying visitors and neighbors. But the Dog seemed to be very proud of the clog and dragged it about noisily as if he wished to attract everybody's attention. He was not able to impress anyone.
"You would be wiser," said an old acquaintance, "to keep quietly out of sight with that clog. Do you want everybody to know what a disgraceful and ill-natured Dog you are?"
Notoriety is not fame.
(From the book The Æsop for Children, with pictures by Milo Winter — Public Domain)
The Mischievous Dog (J. H. Stickney's Version)
There was once a Dog who used to run at every one whom he met, but so quietly that no one suspected harm from him till he began to bite his heels.
In order to give notice to strangers that the Dog could not be trusted, and at the same time to punish the Dog himself, the master would sometimes hang a bell about his neck and compel him to drag a heavy clog, which he firmly attached to his collar by a chain.
For a time the Dog hung his head; but seeing that his bell and clog brought him into notice, he grew proud of them, and ran about the market place to display them and attract attention to himself. He even went so far as to give himself airs with the other dogs, who had no such mark of distinction.
An old Hound, seeing it, said: “Why do you make such an exhibition of yourself, as if your bell and clog were marks of merit? They do indeed bring you into notice; but when their meaning is understood, they are marks of disgrace—a reminder that you are an ill-mannered cur. It is one thing to be renowned when our virtues give occasion for it; it is quite another to become notorious for our faults.”
(From the book Æsop’s Fables: A Version for Young Readers by J. H. Stickney, illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull — Public Domain)
The Mischievous Dog (Samuel Croxall's Version)
A certain man had a Dog, which was so fierce and mischievous, that he was forced to fasten a heavy clog about his neck, to keep him from running at and worrying people. This the vain cur took for a badge of honourable distinction; and grew so insolent upon it, that he looked down with an air of scorn upon the neighbouring dogs, and refused to keep them company. But a sly old poacher, who was one of the gang, assured him, that he had no reason to value himself upon the favour he wore, since it was fixed upon him rather as a mark of disgrace than of honour.
Application
Some people are so exceeding vain, and at the same time so dull of apprehension, that they interpret every thing by which they are distinguished from others in their own favour. If they betray any weaknesses in conversation, which are apt to excite the laughter of their company, they make no scruple of ascribing it to their superiority in point of wit. If want of sense or breeding (one of which is always the case) disposes them to give, or mistake, affronts, upon which account all discreet sensible people are obliged to shun their company, they impute it to their own valour and magnanimity, to which they fancy the world pays an awful and respectful deference. There are several decent ways of preventing such turbulent men from doing mischief, which might be applied with secrecy, and many times pass unregarded, if their own arrogance did not require the rest of mankind to take notice of it.
(From the book Æsop's Fables, Embellished with One Hundred and Eleven Emblematical Devices. Translator: Samuel Croxall — Public Domain)
The Mischievous Dog (Thomas Bewick's Version)
A certain Man had a Dog which was so ferocious and surly, that he was compelled to fasten a heavy clog to his collar, to keep him from running at and indiscriminately seizing upon every animal that came in his way. This the vain Cur took for a badge of honourable distinction, and grew so insolent upon it, that he looked down with an air of scorn upon the neighbouring Dogs, and refused to keep them company: but a sly old poacher, who was one of the gang, assured him that he had no reason to value himself upon the favour he wore, since it was fixed upon him as a badge of disgrace, not of honour.
Application
The only true way of estimating the value of tokens170 of distinction, is to reflect on what account they were conferred. Those which have been acquired for virtuous actions, will be regarded as illustrious signs of dignity; but if they have been bestowed upon the worthless and base, as the reward of vice or corruption, all the stars and garters, and collars of an illustrious order,—all the tinsel glories in which such creatures may strut about in fancied superiority, will not mask them from the sight of men of discernment, who will always consider the means by which their honours have been obtained, and truly estimate them as badges of abasement and disgrace.
(From the book The Fables of Æsop, and Others, with designs on wood by Thomas Bewick — Public Domain)