A peacock spreading its gorgeous tail mocked a crane that passedby, ridiculing1 the ashen2 hue3 of its plumage and saying, "I amrobed, like a king, in gold and purple and all the colors of therainbow; while you have not a bit of color on your wings.""True," Replied the crane; "But I soar to the heights of heavenand lift up my voice to the stars, while you walk below, like acock, among the birds of the dunghill." 
Fine feathers don't make fine birds. 