The Ashes of Madame Blavatsky
The two brightest lights of Theosophy being in the same place at once in company with the Ashes of Madame Blavatsky, an Inquiring Soul thought the time propitious to learn something worth while. So he sat at the feet of one awhile, and then he sat awhile at the feet of the other, and at last he applied his ear to the keyhole of the casket containing the Ashes of Madame Blavatsky. When the Inquiring Soul had completed his course of instruction he declared himself the Ahkoond of Swat, fell into the baleful habit of standing on his head, and swore that the mother who bore him was a pragmatic paralogism. Wherefore he was held in high reverence, and when the two other gentlemen were hanged for lying the Theosophists elected him to the leadership of their Disastral Body, and after a quiet life and an honourable death by the kick of a jackass he was reincarnated as a Yellow Dog. As such he ate the Ashes of Madame Blavatsky, and Theosophy was no more.
The Opossum of the Future
One day an Opossum who had gone to sleep hanging from the highest branch of a tree by the tail, awoke and saw a large Snake wound about the limb, between him and the trunk of the tree.
“If I hold on,” he said to himself, “I shall be swallowed; if I let go I shall break my neck.”
But suddenly he bethought himself to dissemble.
“My perfected friend,” he said, “my parental instinct recognises in you a noble evidence and illustration of the theory of development. You are the Opossum of the Future, the ultimate Fittest Survivor of our species, the ripe result of progressive prehensility—all tail!”
But the Snake, proud of his ancient eminence in Scriptural history, was strictly orthodox, and did not accept the scientific view.
The Life-Savers
Seventy-Five Men presented themselves before the President of the Humane Society and demanded the great gold medal for life-saving.
“Why, yes,” said the President; “by diligent effort so many men must have saved a considerable number of lives. How many did you save?”
“Seventy-five, sir,” replied their Spokesman.
“Ah, yes, that is one each—very good work—very good work, indeed,” the President said. “You shall not only have the Society’s great gold medal, but its recommendation for employment at the various life-boat stations along the coast. But how did you save so many lives?”
The Spokesman of the Men replied:
“We are officers of the law, and have just returned from the pursuit of two murderous outlaws.”
The Australian Grasshopper
A Distinguished Naturalist was travelling in Australia, when he saw a Kangaroo in session and flung a stone at it. The Kangaroo immediately adjourned, tracing against the sunset sky a parabolic curve spanning seven provinces, and evanished below the horizon. The Distinguished Naturalist looked interested, but said nothing for an hour; then he said to his native Guide:
“You have pretty wide meadows here, I suppose?”
“No, not very wide,” the Guide answered; “about the same as in England and America.”
After another long silence the Distinguished Naturalist said:
“The hay which we shall purchase for our horses this evening—I shall expect to find the stalks about fifty feet long. Am I right?”
“Why, no,” said the Guide; “a foot or two is about the usual length of our hay. What can you be thinking of?”
The Distinguished Naturalist made no immediate reply, but later, as in the shades of night they journeyed through the desolate vastness of the Great Lone Land, he broke the silence:
“I was thinking,” he said, “of the uncommon magnitude of that grasshopper.”
The Pavior
An Author saw a Labourer hammering stones into the pavement of a street, and approaching him said:
“My friend, you seem weary. Ambition is a hard taskmaster.”
“I’m working for Mr. Jones, sir,” the Labourer replied.
“Well, cheer up,” the Author resumed; “fame comes at the most unexpected times. To-day you are poor, obscure, and disheartened, and to-morrow the world may be ringing with your name.”
“What are you giving me?” the Labourer said. “Cannot an honest pavior perform his work in peace, and get his money for it, and his living by it, without others talking rot about ambition and hopes of fame?”
“Cannot an honest writer?” said the Author.
The Tried Assassin
An Assassin being put upon trial in a New England court, his Counsel rose and said: “Your Honour, I move for a discharge on the ground of ‘once in jeopardy’: my client has been already tried for that murder and acquitted.”
“In what court?” asked the Judge.
“In the Superior Court of San Francisco,” the Counsel replied.
“Let the trial proceed—your motion is denied,” said the Judge. “An Assassin is not in jeopardy when tried in California.”
The Bumbo of Jiam
The Pahdour of Patagascar and the Gookul of Madagonia were disputing about an island which both claimed. Finally, at the suggestion of the International League of Cannon Founders, which had important branches in both countries, they decided to refer their claims to the Bumbo of Jiam, and abide by his judgment. In settling the preliminaries of the arbitration they had, however, the misfortune to disagree, and appealed to arms. At the end of a long and disastrous war, when both sides were exhausted and bankrupt, the Bumbo of Jiam intervened in the interest of peace.
“My great and good friends,” he said to his brother sovereigns, “it will be advantageous to you to learn that some questions are more complex and perilous than others, presenting a greater number of points upon which it is possible to differ. For four generations your royal predecessors disputed about possession of that island, without falling out. Beware, oh, beware the perils of international arbitration!—against which I feel it my duty to protect you henceforth.”
So saying, he annexed both countries, and after a long, peaceful, and happy reign was poisoned by his Prime Minister.
The Two Poets
Two Poets were quarrelling for the Apple of Discord and the Bone of Contention, for they were very hungry.
“My sons,” said Apollo, “I will part the prizes between you. You,” he said to the First Poet, “excel in Art—take the Apple. And you,” he said to the Second Poet, “in Imagination—take the Bone.”
“To Art the best prize!” said the First Poet, triumphantly, and endeavouring to devour his award broke all his teeth. The Apple was a work of Art.
“That shows our Master’s contempt for mere Art,” said the Second Poet, grinning.
Thereupon he attempted to gnaw his Bone, but his teeth passed through it without resistance. It was an imaginary Bone.
The Thistles upon the Grave
A Mind Reader made a wager that he would be buried alive and remain so for six months, then be dug up alive. In order to secure the grave against secret disturbance, it was sown with thistles. At the end of three months, the Mind Reader lost his money. He had come up to eat the thistles.
The Shadow of the Leader
A Political Leader was walking out one sunny day, when he observed his Shadow leaving him and walking rapidly away.
“Come back here, you scoundrel,” he cried.
“If I had been a scoundrel,” answered the Shadow, increasing its speed, “I should not have left you.”
The Sagacious Rat
A Rat that was about to emerge from his hole caught a glimpse of a Cat waiting for him, and descending to the colony at the bottom of the hole invited a Friend to join him in a visit to a neighbouring corn-bin. “I would have gone alone,” he said, “but could not deny myself the pleasure of such distinguished company.”
“Very well,” said the Friend, “I will go with you. Lead on.”
“Lead?” exclaimed the other. “What! I precede so great and illustrious a rat as you? No, indeed—after you, sir, after you.”
Pleased with this great show of deference, the
Friend went ahead, and, leaving the hole first, was caught by the Cat, who immediately trotted away with him. The other then went out unmolested.
The Member and the Soap
A Member of the Kansas Legislature meeting a Cake of Soap was passing it by without recognition, but the Cake of Soap insisted on stopping and shaking hands. Thinking it might possibly be in the enjoyment of the elective franchise, he gave it a cordial and earnest grasp. On letting it go he observed that a portion of it adhered to his fingers, and running to a brook in great alarm he proceeded to wash it off. In doing so he necessarily got some on the other hand, and when he had finished washing, both were so white that he went to bed and sent for a physician.
Alarm and Pride
“Good-Morning, my friend,” said Alarm to Pride; “how are you this morning?”
“Very tired,” replied Pride, seating himself on a stone by the wayside and mopping his steaming brow. “The politicians are wearing me out by pointing to their dirty records with me, when they could as well use a stick.”
Alarm sighed sympathetically, and said:
“It is pretty much the same way here. Instead of using an opera-glass they view the acts of their opponents with me!”
As these patient drudges were mingling their tears, they were notified that they must go on duty again, for one of the political parties had nominated a thief and was about to hold a gratification meeting.
A Causeway
A Rich Woman having returned from abroad disembarked at the foot of Knee-deep Street, and was about to walk to her hotel through the mud.
“Madam,” said a Policeman, “I cannot permit you to do that; you would soil your shoes and stockings.”
“Oh, that is of no importance, really,” replied the Rich Woman, with a cheerful smile.
“But, madam, it is needless; from the wharf to the hotel, as you observe, extends an unbroken line of prostrate newspaper men who crave the honour of having you walk upon them.”
“In that case,” she said, seating herself in a doorway and unlocking her satchel, “I shall have to put on my rubber boots.”
Two in Trouble
Meeting a fat and patriotic Statesman on his way to Washington to beseech the President for an office, an idle Tramp accosted him and begged twenty-five cents with which to buy a suit of clothes.
“Melancholy wreck,” said the Statesman, “what brought you to this state of degradation? Liquor, I suppose.”
“I am temperate to the verge of absurdity,” replied the Tramp. “My foible was patriotism; I was ruined by the baneful habit of trying to serve my country. What ruined you?”
“Indolence.”
The Witch’s Steed
A Broomstick which had long served a witch as a steed complained of the nature of its employment, which it thought degrading.
“Very well,” said the Witch, “I will give you work in which you will be associated with intellect—you will come in contact with brains. I shall present you to a housewife.”
“What!” said the Broomstick, “do you consider the hands of a housewife intellectual?”
“I referred,” said the Witch, “to the head of her good man.”
The All Dog
A Lion seeing a Poodle fell into laughter at the ridiculous spectacle.
“Who ever saw so small a beast?” he said.
“It is very true,” said the Poodle, with austere dignity, “that I am small; but, sir, I beg to observe that I am all dog.”
The Farmer’s Friend
A Great Philanthropist who had thought of himself in connection with the Presidency and had introduced a bill into Congress requiring the Government to loan every voter all the money that he needed, on his personal security, was explaining to a Sunday-school at a railway station how much he had done for the country, when an angel looked down from Heaven and wept.
“For example,” said the Great Philanthropist, watching the teardrops pattering in the dust, “these early rains are of incalculable advantage to the farmer.”
Physicians Two
A Wicked Old Man finding himself ill sent for a Physician, who prescribed for him and went away. Then the Wicked Old Man sent for another Physician, saying nothing of the first, and an entirely different treatment was ordered. This continued for some weeks, the physicians visiting him on alternate days and treating him for two different disorders, with constantly enlarging doses of medicine and more and more rigorous nursing. But one day they accidently met at his bedside while he slept, and the truth coming out a violent quarrel ensued.
“My good friends,” said the patient, awakened by the noise of the dispute, and apprehending the cause of it, “pray be more reasonable. If I could for weeks endure you both, can you not for a little while endure each other? I have been well for ten days, but have remained in bed in the hope of gaining by repose the strength that would justify me in taking your medicines. So far I have touched none of it.”
The Overlooked Factor
A Man that owned a fine Dog, and by a careful selection of its mate had bred a number of animals but a little lower than the angels, fell in love with his washerwoman, married her, and reared a family of dolts.
“Alas!” he exclaimed, contemplating the melancholy result, “had I but chosen a mate for myself with half the care that I did for my Dog I should now be a proud and happy father.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said the Dog, overhearing the lament. “There’s a difference, certainly, between your whelps and mine, but I venture to flatter myself that it is not due altogether to the mothers. You and I are not entirely alike ourselves.”
A Racial Parallel
Some White Christians engaged in driving Chinese Heathens out of an American town found a newspaper published in Peking in the Chinese tongue, and compelled one of their victims to translate an editorial. It turned out to be an appeal to the people of the Province of Pang Ki to drive the foreign devils out of the country and burn their dwellings and churches. At this evidence of Mongolian barbarity the White Christians were so greatly incensed that they carried out their original design.
The Honest Cadi
A Robber who had plundered a Merchant of one thousand pieces of gold was taken before the Cadi, who asked him if he had anything to say why he should not be decapitated.
“Your Honour,” said the Robber, “I could do no otherwise than take the money, for Allah made me that way.”
“Your defence is ingenious and sound,” said the Cadi, “and I must acquit you of criminality. Unfortunately, Allah has made me so that I must also take off your head—unless,” he added, thoughtfully, “you offer me half of the gold; for He made me weak under temptation.”
Thereupon the Robber put five hundred pieces of gold into the Cadi’s hand.
“Good,” said the Cadi. “I shall now remove but one half your head. To show my trust in your discretion I shall leave intact the half you talk with.”
The Kangaroo and the Zebra
A Kangaroo hopping awkwardly along with some bulky object concealed in her pouch met a Zebra, and desirous of keeping his attention upon himself, said:
“Your costume looks as if you might have come out of the penitentiary.”
“Appearances are deceitful,” replied the Zebra, smiling in the consciousness of a more insupportable wit, “or I should have to think that you had come out of the Legislature.”
A Matter of Method
A Philosopher seeing a Fool beating his Donkey, said:
“Abstain, my son, abstain, I implore. Those who resort to violence shall suffer from violence.”
“That,” said the Fool, diligently belabouring the animal, “is what I’m trying to teach this beast—which has kicked me.”
“Doubtless,” said the Philosopher to himself, as he walked away, “the wisdom of fools is no deeper nor truer than ours, but they really do seem to have a more impressive way of imparting it.”
The Man of Principle
During a shower of rain the Keeper o
f a Zoölogical garden observed a Man of Principle crouching beneath the belly of the ostrich, which had drawn itself up to its full height to sleep.
“Why, my dear sir,” said the Keeper, “if you fear to get wet, you’d better creep into the pouch of yonder female kangaroo—the Saltarix mackintosha—for if that ostrich wakes he will kick you to death in a minute.”
“I can’t help that,” the Man of Principle replied, with that lofty scorn of practical considerations distinguishing his species. “He may kick me to death if he wish, but until he does he shall give me shelter from the storm. He has swallowed my umbrella.”
The Returned Californian
A Man was hanged by the neck until he was dead.
“Whence do you come?” Saint Peter asked when the Man presented himself at the gate of Heaven.
“From California,” replied the applicant.
Fantastic Fables Page 3