Most eyes cannot resist the beautiful, and most hands can’t resist gold. Guardians are few who guard a treasure quite as well as they should.
There was once a certain dog employed to carry home, about his neck, his master’s meal. Much self-restraint he showed, especially considering how fine it smelled. But he was an obedient dog—not many people would have been so good.
One day he met a mongrel on his way, who sniffed the feast, and wanted it, and tried to take it. Not so fast! The dog put down his charge, the better to defend it. Then: what a dogfight!
But soon more dogs arrived, street mutts and curs inured to kicks. Our dog—outnumbered, seeing that his master’s meal was doomed—supposed he might as well partake.
“A truce,” he begged, and wisely. “Let’s not fight. A mouthful for me,”—which he gulped—“the rest is yours.”
A free-for-all ensued; a piece at least did each engorge—though some got more.
The same occurs in nations, states, and towns: officials, beadles, politicians help themselves like gluttons to the public wealth—the best among them prodded by the worst.
When evil will be done, why not sin first?