Jason Weiser (0:00)

This week on Myths and Legends, we're in the stories of Aesop's Fables. And you'll see why you shouldn't do a fad diet a grasshopper is doing. If a friend kicks you in the face when you're trying to flee from a bear, they might not be a real friend. And if someone compliments you when your mouth is full of raw meat, they might have ulterior motives. The creature this time is the stag on your roof. If you happen to be an epic Norse warrior, this is Myths and Legends, episode 415. Bray it ain't so. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Some are stories you might not have heard before, but but really should. Today we're back in Aesop's Fables. Aesop, if you didn't know, was a fabulous Greek fableist. And the definition of a fable is a short story with a little life lesson. We have a lot of them all woven together into a single story. So we'll jump into a donkey jumping in to a river. Oh no. I fell. The donkey cried out when crossing the river. It came out as a hee haw sort of sound. Though the whips of the salt peddler weren't nearly as bad as carrying his salt the miles and miles back home. It was a happy accident the first time, him stumbling in the river at the beginning of their journey and feeling the burden on his back literally dissolve. The next two times, including this one, were 100% on purpose. It's not that the donkey minded doing hard work. He was a beast of burden. It's just that he didn't want to be a rent a donkey for some jerk who was just gonna overload and overwork him and pay his master. And no matter how good a job the donkey did, his master got the pay. And that pay never seemed to trickle down to better oats and more leisure time. So he would stumble. He could do this all day because literally, what else did he have going on? He was a rental donkey and it would cost more for this guy to kill him than the satisfaction was worth. The donkey hoped. Stumbling and dipping in the river, he enjoyed the cool bath and looked forward to the weight literally dissolving. Dissolving, not doubling or tripling. The donkey could barely rise to his hooves. Wha. What was happening? He heard a laugh. Thought you were a smart rental donkey, didn't you? Thought you would keep up your little fake stumbles and walk all day without carrying anything. Well, those are sponges on your back now, and thanks to you, they're full of water. Enjoy the added weight, the donkey grumbled. Not even a pithy life lesson here, Just gloating. The donkey made it back to town exhausted and bedraggled, and his energy had evaporated almost in conjunction with the water and the sponges on his back. So when he made it back to the stable, all he wanted to do was sit. But when he saw his owner as he arrived at the stall, he despaired. The man was packed, ready to go. He looks exhausted. What did you do to my donkey? His owner demanded. They were set to leave if he dies. I'm going to come back to you for recompense. The owner pointed. But they did have to leave now. They were losing daylight as it was, and they wouldn't be able to make it across the wastes by nightfall if they didn't hurry. The donkey ached as his owner piled bags on his back and alongside his companion, let him back out of the city gates. They pushed it, but they made it. Well, they as in the donkey who carried all their stuff, and not the two guys who walked kind of faster than they might usually walk. Still, they made it, and the donkey could rest. Not alongside all of his friends back at the stable, where they could share stories about how horrible it was being an animal in this time period. No, now he was with camels and horses who all looked down on him, mostly literally, but also in every other way, and it was stifling. They didn't even have his normal feed up early the next day. They were no longer traveling in the cool of the afternoon and evening, but in the heat of the morning, with the sun beating down atop them come early afternoon. Everyone needed a break, not just the animal carrying everything the donkey wasn't allowed to drop, mainly because they were worried about getting him back up, but also because they wanted the shade. But seeing as he was a working donkey, there wasn't much shade to be had. Only one man could sit in the shadow of the donkey. Hey, what are you doing? The owner asked, nudging the man and then shoving the man. The traveler rolled onto the burning ground while the owner sat down and fanned himself in the shade. What? We should at least share. You know how hot direct sunlight is? Nope, because I'm not in it. The owner gloated. You rented the donkey. That's all your stuff atop him. You didn't rent his shadow. Nowhere in the contract mentioned a donkey's shadow vis a vis the Shadow still belongs to me. He closed his eyes and breathed shade. Medieval air conditioning. It's pretty important that when you make someone angry enough to kick you in the ribs, you don't close your eyes for some nice me time because, well, the owner caught a kick to the ribs and a shove of his own when the traveler pushed him to the side and took his spot. This went on. The donkey watched two men come to blows over the scrap of his shade. And, well, he didn't care. This kind of ruled, actually. After the owner recovered the spot, the donkey felt the traveler rooting through his own bags, the ones tied to the donkey. Uh oh, he was getting something. A sword, an axe, a stick. Whatever it was, this was about to escalate. He would sit back with some popcorn, if he had popcorn or could sit. Then he felt something else. When the man was rooting around at his side, everything was unbalanced. In fact, when drawing his dagger, the man had accidentally sliced one of the ropes holding everything in place. His owner had drawn a knife of his own, and seeing both men preoccupied trying to stab and also not be stabbed, the donkey realized that he could do it. He shifted, and the bulk on his back moved even more. All right, let's do this. Breaking off in a run, the donkey felt his burdens fall from his back as his owner and the traveler stood with knives out, ready to kill each other for the that had just bolted. They took off after the donkey, but they were only running to catch what they had. The donkey was running unburdened, and for freedom, they didn't stand a chance. When the men slowed, the donkey also slowed at a safe distance. The owner sighed. In quarreling about the shadow, we often lose the substance. The traveler looked at him. What did that even mean? And did the owner hear a chime? He felt like he heard a chime. It means when we get caught up arguing about tangentially related, trivial things, we can sometimes lose the sight of the bigger substantive issues. Like how arguing about the donkey's shadow led to us losing not just the shadow, but the donkey as well, the owner said. Nope, I don't get that from that situation, the traveler replied. In fact, I see you found a nice cushy spot of grass to sit on. I want it. The traveler held up his knife again. The owner said that this was exactly what he was talking about. Their very survival was at stake now. They couldn't argue over an insignificant spot of grass, said the guy with the springy, cool grass cushioning his feet. The traveler pointed the knife and Lunged. The donkey was glad to not be wrapped up in that road trip anymore. Also, he had bigger things to worry about. This was a vast new world, and he would need to face it on his own now. He would need to secure his own places to rest and to eat. Still, it was a small price to pay for freedom. Freedom was horrible. The natural world was a nightmare. Food was everywhere, which was good. Once he made it out of the desert and into the forest, he could munch on all sorts of grasses and leaves. What he noticed, though, after he ran for his life from the third time after kicking a wolf or bear in the jaw, was that food was everywhere, and that included food for the predators, which included him. In his head, he pictured freedom as just grazing and prancing around in the fields all day. In truth, freedom was running for his life for as long as that life would last. And if predators, disease and danger had their way, wouldn't be for very long. Case in point, he skidded to a stop when he heard the now familiar form of a wolf in a clearing. Though he relaxed a bit when he noticed the wolf was whimpering, he seemed to be choking. Please, please help me. The wolf whimpered. I will pay a great sum. I have a bone stuck in my throat. The donkey blinked. Um, assuming he wanted to help, how would he help? Lifting up his hooves, he said he couldn't very well do surgery with these clompy boys. The wolf snarled, and the donkey laughed when the wolf got up, but wincing, had to sit back down. Yeah, and also, you know how many times I, a donkey, have had a bone stuck in my throat? The donkey asked. 00 times. Because I don't eat other animals. No, we're good. Enjoy your death. I hope it's slow and painful. The donkey laughed, but before he could get too far, a voice piped up. A great sum. Hmm. A crane strutted from the trees. Yes, a great and worthy sum for a wonderful creature such as yourself. The wolf whined. The crane told the wolf to open his mouth. He would have it out in a moment. The wolf opened his mouth, and the crane's long, delicate beak reached down past the teeth, past the tongue, and on down the throat until he found the bone. The wolf yelped as the crane jiggled the bone free. But he sighed as the bird drew his head up from deep in the animal's throat and soon stood next to him with the saliva soaked bone only tinged with blood. The crane's feathers were slick with a wolf's spit. As he dropped the bone in the dirt. Then things got awkward. The donkey stood there. The crane stood there. The wolf smiled. Hey, that great sum you were talking about? The crane prodded. Mm, the wolf said. Can I. Can I have it? The crane looked to the donkey, who was half cowering in the shade of a tree. But of course. The wolf grinned again. There were a few more seconds of awkward silence. Okay, so you like you have Venmo Zell? The crane asked. Oh dear bird. You already have sufficient recompense. And having been permitted to draw your head out in safety from the mouth and jaws of a wolf, the the creature said. For in serving the wicked expect no reward. Be thankful if you escape injury for your pains. The crane scoffed. That wasn't fair. I'm right there with you, the donkey chimed in. Also, that was a terrible lesson. We should not expect people to honor their agreements, and if they scam us, be grateful they didn't do more. Really? The wolf didn't address the donkey, but filled the sky above the crane. What's not fair is you expecting me to pay the same sum twice. The wolf looked at the bird, saliva beginning to drip from his mouth. Quickly understanding what was being threatened, the bird ran and took flight. At that, the wolf's head snapped over and his eyes focused in on the donkey, the creature that couldn't fly there on the edge of the clearing. The donkey shuffled. He didn't suppose he'd get what the crane got, but just like on credit, his application was rejected and the wolf took off after the donkey. Like that jazzy little razzmatazz we got going on. We'll see what happens to the donkey. But that will be right after this. This is an ad by BetterHelp. You ever look for health and wellness advice online? 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You slide into bed and it is like ah, so comfortable. We learned of Bollenbranch when they bought ads years ago. And even before they re upped this year, we just kept getting them. Our closet is legitimately full of boll and branch. They talk about how they get softer with each wash and they do. They are amazing. Even better, they're free from toxins and they use 100% organic cotton and are ethically crafted by expert artisans that earn fair wages. They are absolutely the only sheets we buy. I cannot recommend them highly enough. Try them out. They have a 30 night worry free guarantee, but you will love them. Feel the difference an extraordinary night's sleep can make. With Bolen Branch. Get 15% off plus free shipping on your first set of sheets at bolenbranch.com myths that's Boland Branch B O L L a n d branch.com myths to save 15% and unlock free shipping exclusions app. It took about an hour to lose the wolf completely and the donkey was exhausted. He hadn't run for his life ever. This was so much worse than having to haul some stuff sometimes and getting free food in a safe barn. Still gasping hungrily at the air, the donkey froze. When he heard a scream, his own head shot up to better take in the sound. Humans. Two humans. What are you doing? You can't leave me Here. What do you want me to do, climb the tree for you? Wish I could help. Really do, but yeah. Hopefully when he's done with you, he'll be too full to climb for me. The other voice said. You could not kick me down from the tree. That's what you could do. You let me up. The other man was almost in tears. It's not thick enough. It'll break and we'll both die. You're so brave. I'll tell your story. The other one landed a kick on the man's forehead as he tumbled to the leaves. The donkey's head poked through the clearing and he could hear just behind the trees why the humans had been screaming. A bear. A bear lumbered through the woods. The donkey felt for the human. He really he did. He didn't even dislike humans. But that one was gonna die as long as the donkey stayed silent and still. The bear would eat this human and be too tired to come after him. Unlike the human, he could outrun the bear's top speed. That's when the human died. Just drop dead right there in the forest. This made things more complicated for the donkey. Everyone knew a bear wouldn't eat the rotten scraps of someone else's kill. The bear would go after the man in the tree if the donkey remained completely still. If, of course, it was worth the trouble. The bear lumbered in the clearing and looked at the other human in the tree. The bear's belly was bigger. He had fed recently. They were likely all safe. Still, the bear was unpredictable, a hunter. The donkey never had to chase down grass in a field, so he didn't know how this animal's brain worked. Appearing to do his due diligence, the bear nudged the human on the ground, sniffing his arms and then jamming his snout in the man's ear. Then he lumbered on. The human had good instincts, it seemed, because when the bear was out of the donkey's range of hearing, the human in the tree stirred and the dead one got up. Plain dead. Nice move, the one from the tree said. You tricked him. I knew you could do it. I could never act that well. That's why I climbed and you stayed down there. Good work, everyone. Good team effort. The man on the ground, though, was serious. He looked up at his companion. We didn't fool it, the man said. What do you mean he left? The one from the tree replied. It. It spoke to me, the man said. The bear wasn't sniffing my ear. It was whispering. He gave me this. Never travel with a friend who deserts you at the approach of danger. Looking up at his friend, he told the man he didn't want to travel with him. The man on the ground he was going home. Seriously, you're being a baby about this, the man said. Come on. No, I'm going. You're not a friend. A friend wouldn't do that. The man wouldn't look at him. I always knew you were too scared to leave your father's mill, run back to him. You can't handle this life anyway, the man said, slung his pack over his shoulder and disappeared into the trees, back toward the path. Wow. Misfortune tests the sincerity of friends. The donkey brayed. He was so caught up parsing out the lesson here that he didn't notice the other man was just on the other side of the shrubbery. Hey, free donkey. The man said and grabbed the donkey's halter. Loser. The heifer cried out to the ox who was plowing the field. Her head swung to see the donkey being led in by the son who, if he had the budget for it, would have been a prodigal son. Ah, look, another beast of burden. The heifer laughed. Someone to do all the work so she could have all the hay she wanted with no strings attached. Even with her milking days being over. This was amazing. Unlike them, they were chumps. Enjoy your endless meaningless toil, chumps. She laughed and went back to chewing. The donkey looked to the ox, who only gave him a knowing nod. The son walked the donkey up to his father, who stood outside the barn with a net full of dead cranes and one living stork. The father's face lit up when he saw his son had returned from his ill advised fairy tale trip to find his fortune or whatever. The kid already had his fortune here. He held up a finger. One minute. He had to finish this up. Surrounded by dead cranes, the singular stork still stuck in the net begged the father for mercy. The son knew, since the father had been talking about his plans for a few weeks and his mother had been knitting the net. He had set the net in the field to catch the birds that would come and eat the seeds, and apparently just that morning he had dragged back a net full of cranes and one stork. Pray save me, master, the stork said, and let me go free at once. My broken limbs should excite your pity. Besides, I am no crane. I am a stork, a bird of excellent character. See how I love and slave for my father and mother. Look too at my feathers. They're not the least like Those of a crane. The miller laughed aloud and said, it may be all as you say. I only know I have taken you with these robbers, the cranes, and you must die in their company. Both the son and donkey looked away, shuddering at the crack. Birds of a feather flocked together, the father said as the bird's corpse fell. He smiled, hugging the young man. There was so much heat. There was crashing inside the house, then yells. There was a donkey. A donkey in the house. What? The father spun. The donkey bounded from the house and made for him, tongue out. It was a miracle the animal didn't break his collarbone or a rib because the donkey was nearly on top of him, licking his face. For the donkey that had just been brought in, things were stranger. He spoke donkey. This donkey, though, was not speaking donkey. Sorry, was all the donkey was saying. The father's servants all came rushing out with clubs and whips, though, and soon he was screaming out in pain. As they drove him back to the barn. The son helped his father up and gave the forest donkey to the servants, who led him to the stables as well. The bruised and battered donkey that had just been in the house could talk, it seemed, and he had a lot to say. The master has a Maltese, a little white lapdog. He knows so many tricks, and he's a great favorite of master, who holds him and seldom leaves to dine with friends without bringing the little dog something to eat. Meanwhile, I walk around the mill all day, grinding corn and carrying wood from the forest. Why should my fate be so hard while the lapdogs is so easy and luxurious? So I decided to do something about it. I was going to be like the dog. I broke free from my restraints in the field and galloped to the master's house, where I thought he was. I danced around like I had seen the little dog do. But those houses are tight for a leaping donkey. I smashed the table and most of the dishes before I realized my master wasn't even in there. I knew things were not going well, but I was committed. So I ran to him, looked him in the face, and well, you know the rest. With the beatings, the donkey threw back his head. I have brought it all on myself. Why could I not have been content to labor with my companions and not wish to be idle all day like that useless little lapdog? I mean, that's. That's bleak. The forest donkey said their worth wasn't defined by their productivity and output, and they should be able to live meaningful lives apart from their labor. Wrong. The heifer from earlier laughed. She was just a few stalls down from the donkeys and had opinions. You're beasts of burden. That's all you are. You're defined by the use others get out of you. She chewed her cud a bit more. Not me though. Even though, like I said, my milking days are through, they're treating me like the queen that I am. One donkey shot the other a knowing look. Yeah, that was exactly what it sounded like. I got it bro, the donkey said to the protagonist. Donkey. Our donkey. Well, I'm just going to start calling Donkey at this point and desperately try to not let a Shrek imitation slip in, but we'll see how it goes. Got what? Donkey asked while they were unloading the wheat from the field and the other donkey was grinding the wheat in the mill. How I can be beloved by Master as much as that little dog? The milled donkey laughed. Wasn't your takeaway that your self worth was defined by the labor you could produce or something? Donkey asked. You know what? I thought that. But you were right, the mil donkey said, about the intrinsic value of us as creatures. So I am going to learn to be charming so that master will love me. The mil donkey bobbed his head. That's not remotely what that means, donkey pointed out. But the mil donkey wasn't hearing it. He had been talking to the grasshopper, the one that hangs around the barn, and he was trying to understand the reason why the grasshopper had such a beautiful sonorous voice and they as donkeys had their grating bray. Do they though? Grasshoppers having a beautiful sonorous voice? The donkey furrowed his brow but accepted it as at least a theoretical premise so he could understand the other donkey's story. The milledonkey cracked the code too, as to how he could get such a beautiful voice be a different species entirely. Donkey was back to not following his co worker even with accepting the premise. Do the donkey grinned. What do the dew? Grasshoppers eat dew. So from now on I'm eating nothing but dew. I'm transforming my donkey vocal folds to sound like a beautiful melodic grasshopper. Really are they though? Also, you can't only eat dew. You're a donkey. You'll starve to death. Donkey was about to say. And also Donkey said he'd never really thought of grasshoppers as particularly melodic when he was interrupted by a small voice from the rafters above. Hey, sorry. A mouse called out from the rafters. They were being quite loud. He had company in from town. His cousin Town Mouse. He was trying to show the guy a Good time because he was always ragging on the country. Oh, sorry. Donkey said, but ended up complying whether he was sorry or not. When one of the sons pulled him from the barn after they finished loading him up, Country Mouse scurried back. So what do we think? Town Mouse looked on the raisin, which was stretching it. The thing was just a very dry grape and some wheat stalks and roots that Country Mouse had gathered recently. So, eh? Country Mouse asked, but by the look in the Town Mouse's face he already knew the answer. What do I think you live here? I don't know the life of ants while in my house it's a horn of plenty. I'm surrounded with every luxury and if you come with me as much as I wish you would, you shall have an ample share of my dainties. You know what? Fine. I'm kinda tired of you always talking about how amazing the city is and putting down my home. Sure, let's go. Let's check it out. Country Mouse said and caught his cousin before he bit into the raisin. Yeah, you probably don't want to do that. It's extremely old and I'm not even sure it was a grape at one point. That might actually just be dung. I don't know. We'll see. Donkey, take yet another trip. But that will once again be right after this. Beach trips, BBQs and three day weekends. Awesome. You know what shouldn't be part of your summer plans? Paying high wireless bills. Why? Why are you doing that to yourself? You know how few days of summer we have left and you're planning on paying high wireless bills? What's going on? There's a better way. There's Mint Mobile. But really, let's run down the list. 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Maybe someday, finally, so I can start layering things with one of their chore jackets or dare I say a European linen blazer. You really can't go wrong. Everything looks and feels great and you can get a lot more from them than any other luxury brand. Elevate your fall wardrobe essentials with quince. Go to quince.com legends for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's Q-U-I-N-C-E.com legends to get free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.com legends the five sons were arguing all the time. The miller's house was as good a place as any. But the older brother's return home had really led to something of a vibe shift. The five sons were arguing all the time and the donkey was present one day in the field when the father finally called them all together. My sons, bring me sticks. The father waved. Ow, he's whipping me, dad. He's whipping me with his stick. Tell him to stop whipping me with the stick, the middle brother said as he turned and started smacking his younger brother. The two older ones were fighting over one stick. The youngest was sharpening his sons. Give me your sticks, the father said. And they did, eventually, with only substantial blood loss. When he had them all, he took them in hand and wrapped them with a leather strap. Then he passed it around, asking the brothers to break it. They each thought they would have one over on the others and tried to break it, but they just couldn't. The father took it, untied the leather strap, and handed out the sticks. Now break those, the father said. The sons all broke their sticks. My sons, if you are of one mind and unite to assist each other, you will be as this bundle of sticks, uninjured by the attempts of your enemies. But if you are divided among yourselves, you will be broken as easily as these sticks. The boys looked at the cracked and broken pieces of wood in their respective hands and nodded. They began gathering other sticks and found their own straps. A tear came to the father's eye. They heard him. They wanted to recreate the lesson as a symbol of their family's strength. They were very quick about it, too eager to pick up all those sticks. When the first two finished their bundles and started clubbing each other and the other brothers with them. Because a bundle of sticks was a way more effective and damaging weapon than just one stick, the father worried that they might have taken the wrong message from this little lesson. A trip into town it wouldn't have normally been Donkey's thing, but since the other donkey had starved to death on account of only eating dew for weeks so he could sing like a grasshopper, it fell to him. Before they left, the father had called one of the older sons and told him to prepare the old heifer and the ox for the harvest festival upon his return. The heifer, who was in the middle of berating the ox, like she did all day, every day, laughed. She was excited to be crowned queen of the harvest festival. I don't think that's a thing. Donkey called as the older brother approached with the knives. It was not. The ox was to be set free to enjoy a day off. Butcher the old heifer and have the meat ready. We'll only be a day, the father said as he and the son started out on their journey. Wait. What? The heifer said and staggered. The ox laughed. For this you are allowed to live in idleness because you were presently to be sacrificed. Donkey shuddered as he was led away, laden with the packs toward town. An hour later, the donkey stood next to the father and son as they rested on their journey. I want that meat. I want it. A crow in the tree had a chunk of meat, and the fox at the base of the tree paced. How handsome is that crow. He exclaimed. In the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her complexion. Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would deservedly be considered the queen of birds. Donkey wasn't exactly sure how beautiful a crow was, but that wasn't the part the crow took issue with. Eager to show that her voice was equal to her beauty, she opened her beak and let out a loud and harsh caw. I guess proving that it was. When she did so, the meat hit the leaves and. And the fox immediately snatched it up. My good crow, your voice is right enough, but your wit is wanting. The fox chuckled and took off with the meat. Before Donkey was pulled away, he saw a weasel sneak off after the fox, no doubt thinking of a way to con him out of the meat. Town wasn't far. On their way, they passed a snickering shepherd boy doing vocal warm ups. And it was not long before they were in the market unloading their goods. And then they were being pushed out of the market by a mob of armed citizens. Wolf. Wolf. They heard from beyond the fray. It was the shepherd boy they saw on the way in. The one that looked like he was up to something was in fact, up to something. The miller and his son were separated from the donkey in the rush, which was still surprisingly fervent given that it was the fourth time this week that the kid had yelled out he was being attacked by a wolf. I like a prank as much as the next person. Actually, no, that's not true. I hate pranks. I think they're mean. But this one had always felt a little weak to me. And yeah, this is where that story comes from. And you know exactly what happens because he didn't have TV or TikTok or books or anything interesting, really. This joke was apparently hilarious.