One winter day, a peasant, as kindly as he was unwise, discovered lying in the snow, benumbed and almost dead, a snake.
He took it home and, thinking little what his recompense would be, outstretched it by the fire till it revived.
No sooner had the torpid animal grown warm than life returned—and with life, malice.
Stirring first, then hissing, next it coiled to better spring—and sprang upon its savior.
“Wicked wretch!” the peasant cried in righteous wrath. “For that, you die.”
He seized his axe and, striking twice, he sliced the snake tripartitely. In vain the quivering pieces tried to reunite themselves.
Ungrateful lives have miserable conclusions.
Being kind is meritable. Be careful, though, to whom you’re charitable.