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I do not know of my own knowledge that foxes are fond of grapes. But Esop says they are and that is enough for us.
A fox once found his way into a very fine garden. I suppose he missed his road, for the favourite walk of the fox is into the poltry-yard, that he may pick up a chicken or two for his dinner. Here there were a great many fine flowers; but the fox did not care for that. Men are very found of flowers, and so are bees and other insects; but birds and beasts think nothing about them; you never saw either smell at a rose. There was also a great deal of fine fruit; and, as Esop`s fox was found of grapes, I dare say he was delighted to see the apples and pears and nectarines and peaches. He walked up and down the garden, and was so pleased with everything, that for the life of him he did not know what to choose.
At last he came to a wall that was all covered with the finest grapes you ever saw. They were full of juice almost ready to burst; the purple ones were turned black, and the green were so ripe, that they looked as if you could see through them. I said, the wall was covered with grapes; but that is not quite exact. The ladies and gentlemen had gathered all the clusters that hang within their reach; but higher up the vines were still full. The moment the fox saw them, his choice was fixe😛 he resolved to make his dinner here without seeking any further.
The fox is a very little animal, though he is very nimble. His ambition was greater than his strength. He jumped and jumped, you never saw such jumps in your life. First he could not jump high enough; but afterwards he mended his jumps, and I believe jumped quite as high as the clusters. But, I do not know how it was, not a single grape could he catch. At last he was quite tired and almost lamed with the efforts he had made. The fox was extremely mortified. He looked up; there hung the grapes, but not one for him! He determined then to carry off his disappointment with a spirit. What a fool have I been! said he. I can see now plain enough that the grapes are sour, and not fit to be eaten.
From this fable it has come to be a proverb, when a men pretends not to wish for what he cannot have, to say to him, the grapes are sour. If you ask a poor haymaker, whether he would not like that the parsonage-house were his? Perhaps he will answer, No, indeed, he likes his mud-cottage as well. The fox was not wrong to endeavour contentedly to go without what he could not get, but he need not have told an untruth.
This story, thus, proves that, people generally hate what they can't get.