“I once laid an egg alongside a water-melon, and compared the two. The vegetable was considerably the larger.”
This fable is intended to show the absurdity of hearing all a man has to say.
XXVI.
Seeing himself getting beyond his depth, a bathing naturalist called lustily for succour.
“Anything I can do for you?” inquired the engaging octopus.
“Happy to serve you, I am sure,” said the accommodating leech.
“Command me,” added the earnest crab.
“Gentlemen of the briny deep,” exclaimed the gasping savant, “I am compelled to decline your friendly offices, but I tender you my scientific gratitude; and, as a return favour, I beg, with this my last breath, that you will accept the freedom of my aquarium, and make it your home.”
This tale proves that scientific gratitude is quite as bad as the natural sort.
XXVII.
Two whales seizing a pike, attempted in turn to swallow him, but without success. They finally determined to try him jointly, each taking hold of an end, and both shutting their eyes for a grand effort, when a shark darted silently between them, biting away the whole body of their prey. Opening their eyes, they gazed upon one another with much satisfaction.
“I had no idea he would go down so easily,” said the one.
“Nor I,” returned the other; “but how very tasteless a pike is.”
The insipidity we observe in most of our acquaintances is largely due to our imperfect knowledge of them.
XXVIII.
A wolf went into the cottage of a peasant while the family was absent in the fields, and falling foul of some beef, was quietly enjoying it, when he was observed by a domestic rat, who went directly to her master, informing him of what she had seen.
“I would myself have dispatched the robber,” she added, “but feared you might wish to take him alive.”
So the man secured a powerful club and went to the door of the house, while the rat looked in at the window. After taking a survey of the situation, the man said:
“I don’t think I care to take this fellow alive. Judging from his present performance, I should say his keeping would entail no mean expense. You may go in and slay him if you like; I have quite changed my mind.”
“If you really intended taking him prisoner,” replied the rat, “the object of that bludgeon is to me a matter of mere conjecture. However, it is easy enough to see you have changed your mind; and it may be barely worth mentioning that I have changed mine.”
“The interest you both take in me,” said the wolf, without looking up, “touches me deeply. As you have considerately abstained from bothering me with the question of how I am to be disposed of, I will not embarrass your counsels by obtruding a preference. Whatever may be your decision, you may count on my acquiescence; my countenance alone ought to convince you of the meek docility of my character. I never lose my temper, and I never swear; but, by the stomach of the Prophet! if either one of you domestic animals is in sight when I have finished the conquest of these ribs, the question of my fate may be postponed for future debate, without detriment to any important interest.”
This fable teaches that while you are considering the abatement of a nuisance, it is important to know which nuisance is the more likely to be abated.
XXIX.
A snake tried to shed his skin by pulling it off over his head, but, being unable to do so, was advised by a woodman to slip out of it in the usual way.
“But,” said the serpent, “this is the way you do it!”
“True,” exclaimed the woodman, holding out the hem of his tunic; “but you will observe that my skin is brief and open. If you desire one like that, I think I can assist you.”
So saying, he chopped off about a cubit of the snake’s tail.
XXX.
An oyster who had got a large pebble between the valves of his shell, and was unable to get it out, was lamenting his sad fate, when — the tide being out — a monkey ran to him, and began making an examination.
“You appear,” said the monkey, “to have got something else in here, too. I think I’d better remove that first.”
With this he inserted his paw, and scooped out the animal’s essential part.
“Now,” said he, eating the portion he had removed, “I think you will be able to manage the pebble yourself.”
To apprehend the lesson of this fable one must have some experience of the law.
XXXI.
An old fox and her two cubs were pursued by dogs, when one of the cubs got a thorn in his foot, and could go no farther. Setting the other to watch for the pursuers, the mother proceeded, with much tender solicitude, to extract the thorn. Just as she had done so, the sentinel gave the alarm.
“How near are they?” asked the mother.
“Close by, in the next field,” was the answer.
“The deuce they are!” was the hasty rejoinder. “However, I presume they will be content with a single fox.”
And shoving the thorn earnestly back into the wounded foot, this excellent parent took to her heels.
This fable proves that humanity does not happen to enjoy a monopoly of paternal affection.
XXXII.
A man crossing the great river of Egypt, heard a voice, which seemed to come from beneath his boat, requesting him to stop. Thinking it must proceed from some river-deity, he laid down his paddle and said:
“Whoever you are that ask me to stop, I beg you will let me go on. I have been asked by a friend to dine with him, and I am late.”
“Should your friend pass this way,” said the voice, “I will show him the cause of your detention. Meantime you must come to dinner with me. “
“Willingly,” replied the man, devoutly, very well pleased with so extraordinary an honour; “pray show me the way.”
“In here,” said the crocodile, elevating his distending jaws above the water and beckoning with his tongue—”this way, please.”
This fable shows that being asked to dinner is not always the same thing as being asked to dine.
XXXIII.
An old monkey, designing to teach his sons the advantage of unity, brought them a number of sticks, and desired them to see how easily they might be broken, one at a time. So each young monkey took a stick and broke it.
“Now,” said the father, “I will teach you a lesson.”
And he began to gather the sticks into a bundle. But the young monkeys, thinking he was about to beat them, set upon him, all together, and disabled him.
“There!” said the aged sufferer, “behold the advantage of unity! If you had assailed me one at a time, I would have killed every mother’s son of you!”
Moral lessons are like the merchant’s goods: they are conveyed in various ways.
XXXIV.
A wild horse meeting a domestic one, taunted him with his condition of servitude. The tamed animal claimed that he was as free as the wind.
“If that is so,” said the other, “pray tell me the office of that bit in your mouth.”
“That,” was the answer, “is iron, one of the best tonics in the materia medica.”
“But what,” said the other, “is the meaning of the rein attached to it?”
“Keeps it from falling out of my mouth when I am too indolent to hold it,” was the reply.
“How about the saddle?”
“Fool!” was the angry retort; “its purpose is to spare me fatigue: when I am tired, I get on and ride.”
XXXV.
Some doves went to a hawk, and asked him to protect them from a kite.
“That I will,” was the cheerful reply; “and when I am admitted into the dovecote, I shall kill more of you in a day than the kite did in a century. But of course you know this; you expect to be treated in the regular way.”
So he entered the dovecote, and began preparations for a general slaughter. But the doves all set upon him and made exceedingly short work of him. With his last breath he asked them wh
y, being so formidable, they had not killed the kite. They replied that they had never seen any kite.
XXXVI.
A defeated warrior snatched up his aged father, and, slinging him across his shoulders, plunged into the wilderness, followed by the weary remnant of his beaten army. The old gentleman liked it.
“See!” said he, triumphantly, to the flying legion; “did you ever hear of so dutiful and accommodating a son? And he’s as easy under the saddle as an old family horse!”
“I rather think,” replied the broken and disordered battalion, with a grin, “that Mr. Æneas once did something of this kind. But his father had thoughtfully taken an armful of lares and penates; and the accommodating nature of his son was, therefore, more conspicuous. If I might venture to suggest that you take up my shield and scimitar—”
“Thank you,” said the aged party, “I could not think of disarming the military: but if you would just hand me up one of the heaviest of those dead branches, I think the merits of my son would be rendered sufficiently apparent.”
The routed column passed him up the one shown in the immediate foreground of our sketch, and it was quite enough for both steed and rider.
Fabula ostendit that History repeats itself, with variations.
XXXVII.
A pig who had engaged a cray-fish to pilot him along the beach in search of mussels, was surprised to see his guide start off backwards.
“Your excessive politeness quite overcomes me,” said the porker, “but don’t you think it rather ill bestowed upon a pig? Pray don’t hesitate to turn your back upon me.”
“Sir,” replied the cray-fish, “permit me to continue as I am. We now stand to each other in the proper relation of employé to employer. The former is excessively obsequious, and the latter is, in the eyes of the former, a hog.”
XXXVIII.
The king of tortoises desiring to pay a visit of ceremony to a neighbouring monarch, feared that in his absence his idle subjects might get up a revolution, and that whoever might be left at the head of the State would usurp the throne. So calling his subjects about him, he addressed them thus:
“I am about to leave our beloved country for a long period, and desire to leave the sceptre in the hands of him who is most truly a tortoise. I decree that you shall set out from yonder distant tree, and pass round it. Whoever shall get back last shall be appointed Regent.”
So the population set out for the goal, and the king for his destination. Before the race was decided, his Majesty had made the journey and returned. But he found the throne occupied by a subject, who at once secured by violence what he had won by guile.
Certain usurpers are too conscientious to retain kingly power unless the rightful monarch be dead; and these are the most dangerous sort.
XXXIX.
A spaniel at the point of death requested a mastiff friend to eat him.
“It would soothe my last moments,” said he, “to know that when I am no longer of any importance to myself I may still be useful to you.”
“Much obliged, I am sure,” replied his friend; “I think you mean well, but you should know that my appetite is not so depraved as to relish dog.”
Perhaps it is for a similar reason we abstain from cannibalism.
XL.
A cloud was passing across the face of the sun, when the latter expostulated with him.
“Why,” said the sun, “when you have so much space to float in, should you be casting your cold shadow upon me?”
After a moment’s reflection, the cloud made answer thus:
“I certainly had no intention of giving offence by my presence, and as for my shadow, don’t you think you have made a trifling mistake? — not a gigantic or absurd mistake, but merely one that would disgrace an idiot.”
At this the great luminary was furious, and fell so hotly upon him that in a few minutes there was nothing of him left.
It is very foolish to bandy words with a cloud if you happen to be the sun.
XLI.
A rabbit travelling leisurely along the highway was seen, at some distance, by a duck, who had just come out of the water.
“Well, I declare!” said she, “if I could not walk without limping in that ridiculous way, I’d stay at home. Why, he’s a spectacle!”
“Did you ever see such an ungainly beast as that duck!” said the rabbit to himself. “If I waddled like that I should go out only at night.”
MORAL, BY A KANGAROO. — People who are ungraceful of gait are always intolerant of mind.
XLII.
A fox who dwelt in the upper chamber of an abandoned watch-tower, where he practised all manner of magic, had by means of his art subjected all other animals to his will. One day he assembled a great multitude of them below his window, and commanded that each should appear in his presence, and all who could not teach him some important truth should be thrown off the walls and dashed to pieces. Upon hearing this they were all stricken with grief, and began to lament their hard fate most piteously.
“How,” said they, “shall we, who are unskilled in magic, unread in philosophy, and untaught in the secrets of the stars — who have neither wit, eloquence, nor song — how shall we essay to teach wisdom to the wise?”
Nevertheless, they were compelled to make the attempt. After many had failed and been dispatched, another fox arrived on the ground, and learning the condition of affairs, scampered slyly up the steps, and whispered something in the ear of the cat, who was about entering the tower. So the latter stuck her head in at the door, and shrieked:
“Pullets with a southern exposure ripen earliest, and have yellow legs.”
At this the magician was so delighted that he dissolved the spell and let them all go free.
XLIII.
One evening a jackass, passing between a village and a hill, looked over the latter and saw the faint light of the rising moon.
“Ho-ho, Master Redface!” said he, “so you are climbing up the other side to point out my long ears to the villagers, are you? I’ll just meet you at the top, and set my heels into your insolent old lantern.”
So he scrambled painfully up to the crest, and stood outlined against the broad disc of the unconscious luminary, more conspicuously a jackass than ever before.
XLIV.
A bear wishing to rob a beehive, laid himself down in front of it, and overturned it with his paw.
“Now,” said he, “I will lie perfectly still and let the bees sting me until they are exhausted and powerless; their honey may then be obtained without opposition.”
And it was so obtained, but by a fresh bear, the other being dead.
This narrative exhibits one aspect of the “Fabian policy.”
XLV.
A cat seeing a mouse with a piece of cheese, said:
“I would not eat that, if I were you, for I think it is poisoned. However, if you will allow me to examine it, I will tell you certainly whether it is or not.”
While the mouse was thinking what it was best to do, the cat had fully made up her mind, and was kind enough to examine both the cheese and the mouse in a manner highly satisfactory to herself, but the mouse has never returned to give his opinion.
XLVI.
An improvident man, who had quarrelled with his wife concerning household expenses, took her and the children out on the lawn, intending to make an example of her. Putting himself in an attitude of aggression, and turning to his offspring, he said:
“You will observe, my darlings, that domestic offences are always punished with a loss of blood. Make a note of this and be wise.”
He had no sooner spoken than a starving mosquito settled upon his nose, and began to assist in enforcing the lesson.
“My officious friend,” said the man, “when I require illustrations from the fowls of the air, you may command my patronage. The deep interest you take in my affairs is, at present, a trifle annoying.”
“I do not find it so,” the mosquito would have replied had he been at leisure, “and am
convinced that our respective points of view are so widely dissimilar as not to afford the faintest hope of reconciling our opinions upon collateral points. Let us be thankful that upon the main question of bloodletting we perfectly agree.”
When the bird had concluded, the man’s convictions were quite unaltered, but he was too weak to resume the discussion; and, although blood is thicker than water, the children were constrained to confess that the stranger had the best of it.
This fable teaches.
XLVII.
“I hate snakes who bestow their caresses with interested partiality or fastidious discrimination,” boasted a boa constrictor. “My affection is unbounded; it embraces all animated nature. I am the universal shepherd; I gather all manner of living things into my folds. Entertainment here for man and beast!”
“I should be glad of one of your caresses,” said a porcupine, meekly; “it has been some time since I got a loving embrace.”
So saying, he nestled snugly and confidingly against the large-hearted serpent — who fled.
A comprehensive philanthropy may be devoid of prejudices, but it has its preferences all the same.
XLVIII.
During a distressing famine in China a starving man met a fat pig, who, seeing no chance of escape, walked confidently up to the superior animal, and said:
“Awful famine! isn’t it?”
“Quite dreadful!” replied the man, eyeing him with an evident purpose: “almost impossible to obtain meat.”
“Plenty of meat, such as it is, but no corn. Do you know, I have been compelled to eat so many of your people, I don’t believe there is an ounce of pork in my composition.”
“And I so many that I have lost all taste for pork.”
“Terrible thing this cannibalism!”
“Depends upon which character you try it in; it is terrible to be eaten.”
“You are very brutal!”
Complete Works of Ambrose Bierce (Delphi Classics) Page 34