A HALF-FAMISHED JACKDAW seated himself on a fig-tree, which had
produced some fruit entirely¹ out of season, and waited in the
hope that the figs² would ripen³.  A Fox seeing him sitting so long
and learning the reason of his doing so, said to him, "You are
indeed, sir, sadly deceiving yourself; you are indulging a hope
strong enough to cheat you, but which will never reward you with
enjoyment." 

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