The November winter was tearing the last shriveled and soggy leaves from the trees, when near the outsirts of the forest the grasshopper met the ant. The ant was wearing a slightly torn, panofix-stuffed[1] winter coat reeking of naphthalene – a coat which he bought at a reduced price at the pawn-office, just like his waterproof ski boots -, the grasshopper was evidently shivering in his thin, uninsulated linen jacket. The grasshopper was standing with his hands in his pockets, as he didn’t have gloves either.

            - Good afternoon, neighbour – said the ant. - By the looks of it, you aren’t sweating in that coat…

            - Indeed, it is very cold, neighbour, - answered the grasshopper. - The wind chills me to my bones…

            The ant fixed his scarf on his neck with his leather gloved-hands.

            - My wife knitted it – he said. - She’s a skillfull lady: While watching the television, she’s always knitting or crocheting something. If I recall correctly, you are a bachelor and you rent a house…

            - Well, yes – nodded the grasshopper -, you know, I’m always just playing the violin, don’t have much time for anything else.

            He scrapes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, and offers it to the ant.

            - Thank you – the ant shook his head – but it’s been more than three months since I went smoke free. Not only is it a useless and destructive vice, it also costs money. For the price of a cigarette, a physical worker like me can have breakfast or dinner. - he cleared his throat.

            - My wife and I are planning to get a bigger house next year. Central heating, telephone, direct underground tunnel to the trashheap…

            The grasshopper lit a cigarette.

            - If one only plays his violin all summer while others toil hard to get somewhere in life… - The ant shook his head. - Did you think my dear neighbour that there wouldn’t be a winter this year?

            - I’m going to depart in a week – said the grasshopper -, and I’m only returning around May…

            - Depart? - the ant shook his head. - Is this some kind of invitation from a relative, my dear neighbour?

            - I’m not one to go visiting – said the grasshopper -, I just play the violin at home, practicing…

            - Would you please tell me where are you going? - said the ant as he smiled at him.

            - To Paris – said the grasshopper.

            - To Paris?

            The ant was gazing at the grasshopper with eyes wide open.

            - Are you joking, dear neighbour? - he asked with his voice sligthly raised. - How coulf you afford to spend the winter in Paris?

            - The invited me… the Conservatoire… - said the grasshopper. - I’m going to play the violin at concerts…

            The ant shifted his eyes to the ground and went silent for a bit, and after that, he spoke to the grasshopper in an imploring tone:

            - In light of knowing each other for so long… could you please  help me with an important matter?

            - Oh, naturally… - urged the grasshopper – just tell me, neighbour.

            - I’d like to ask you – said the ant – when you are in Paris, that go to Mr. La Fontaine and tell him, to kiss my ass.