StoryTitle("caps", "The Stag at the Lake") ?> InitialWords(179, "A Stag,", "caps", "dropcap", "noindent") ?> one hot day, came to drink from a clear lake, and stopped to look at his own image in the water.
"How beautiful are my fine spreading horns!" said he. "How strong and graceful they are, branching from each side of my head! What a pity it is that my legs should be so thin and ugly!
DisplayImage("text", "zpage178", "Just at this moment a lion came crashing through the forest and made ready to spring upon him. Away went the stag! and the legs that he had despised would soon have carried him out of danger; but when he came to the thick woods, his beautiful antlers, of which he had been so vain, caught in the branches and held him fast until the lion came up and seized him.