Krilof and His Fables/The Bag

An empty Bag long lay neglected on the ground, in the corner of an antechamber, the lowest menials of the house often using it as a mat to rub their shoes upon. But suddenly our Bag was turned to honourable account, and filled full of ducats. In an iron-bound coffer it now lies in security. Its master caresses it with his own hand, and takes such care of it that not a breath of wind is able to ruffle it; no fly dares to light upon it. Besides this, the whole town becomes well acquainted with the Bag. If a friend comes to visit its master, he willingly begins to say pleasant things about the Bag. Whenever it is opened, every one smiles sweetly upon it; and whoever sits down by its side is sure to pat it or stroke it affectionately, seeing that it is universally respected. The Bag begins to be puffed up, to make much of itself, to air its cleverness. It begins to chatter and to give utterance to non­ sense, discussing and criticising everything: "This is not so," and "That man is a fool," or "That affair will turn out badly." Every one gives it his entire attention, listening with open mouth, although it talks nonsense enough to make their ears tingle. But, unfortunately, men have this weakness, that they are sure to admire whatever a Bag says, so long as it is full of ducats.

​But did the Bag long enjoy honour?—did its reputation for cleverness last, and was it long the object of endearment? Only until its last ducat had been taken out of it: then it was Hung out of doors, and nothing more was ever heard of it.

[To this Bag Krilof compares many of the wealthy brandy­ tax farmers.^[1] Some of them, he says, were once mere waiters in petty taverns, but have now grown rich, and assumed airs of importance. "A million is a great fact. Only, friends, don't be too proud. Shall I whisper the truth to you? God grant you may not get ruined! For, if you do, the same fate will befall you that befell the Bag."]