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A , who had his , and had nothing left but the clothes in which he , saw a one fine day in early spring. Thinking that summer had come, and that he could now do without his coat, he went and sold it for what it would . A change, however, took place in the weather, and there came a sharp frost which killed the unfortunate Swallow. When the Spendthrift saw its dead body he cried, " bird! Thanks to you I am of cold myself."
Moral: One swallow does not make summer.