Inspired by
A daw took particular notice of the pigeons in such a certain dove-house, that they were very well fed, and provided for: so he went and painted himself of a dove colour, and took his commons with the pigeons. So long as he kept his own counsel, he pass’d for a bird of the same feather; but it was his hap once at unawares, to cry [Kaw,] upon which discovery, they beat him out of the house, and when he came to his old companions again, they’d have none of him neither; so that he lost himself both ways by this disguise.
Moral
He that trims betwizt two interests, loses himself with both, when he comes to be detected, for being true to neither..
Sam gazed into the restaurant window at the tables full of food. He often stopped to stare at the luxuries in the bright rooms on his way home from work. His own home was snug and warm with ample good food. It was a simple life, but he was never hungry or cold. He shared his meals with a group of others who took turns preparing meals, repairing the small house, and managing the garden and animals. He and one other had jobs in the nearby town that afforded the group sufficient money to buy what they couldn't grow or make.
Still, the tables piled high with rich dishes called to Sam. The people moved with an elegance that Sam longed to imitate. They dressed in colorful clothes that draped exquisitely, unlike Sam's practical wardrobe, made up of cotton and wool in neutral colors. The men were clean-shaven and the women's hair piled high on their heads, often with jewels or flowers as ornaments. "Someday," Sam said, "I will be like those people. They live such beautiful lives."
One late summer day Sam found a large bag near the edge of town containing an entire suit of clothing made of velvet and brushed satin. A few of the seams were split, like the wearer had outgrown them and thrown them away. Sam touched each garment as an idea occurred to him.
The next evening after work, Sam carefully washed and shaved in the style of the townspeople. He slipped into the clothes he had repaired and made his way into a bustling restaurant, filled with people. He blended in seamlessly with the others and followed their examples as he filled his plate with roast duck, sugared cranberries, potatoes layered with cheese, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and soft dinner rolls slathered with creamy butter. He had never felt so full.
Many of the patrons included Sam in their groups, assuming he was one of them. He smiled and nodded as they discussed the events of the day and the politics of the country. This was when things started to go badly. A few of the men in the group began to discuss Sam's workplace as something that needed to be shut down. "Those dirty tradesmen make our town look bad. They're a nuisance and a drain on the economy." Sam's face flushed red.
"I say," Sam interjected, "Without those workers the town won't function. Who will do the things that you can't or won't?"
Sam's accent and his opinion both gave away his deception. Within a few seconds, he was thrown out of the restaurant, his body bruised from a beating and his ears ringing with the insults the people had hurled at him. "At least," he thought, "I can go home and live an honest and sincere life. I don't need the haughtiness of the wealthy."
Upon returning home, however, he found the door locked. His housemates, not recognizing him, refused him entry no matter how he pleaded that it was he. His fine clothes and clean face rendered him unrecognizable.
Twice rejected, Sam turned away, planning to sleep in the barn, but even the horses did not know him and nudged him out. Sadly, Sam found himself back in town where he found a place to sleep in an alcove of one of the fine houses he had once admired.