Fantastic Fables Part 25

A Man with a Shotgun said to a Bird:

"It is all nonsense, you know, about shooting being a cruel sport. I put my skill against your cunning-that is all there is of it. It is a fair game."

"True," said the Bird, "but I don't wish to play."

"Why not?" inquired the Man with a Shotgun.

"The game," the Bird replied, "is fair as you say; the chances are about even; but consider the stake. I am in it for you, but what is there in it for me?"

Not being prepared with an answer to the question, the Man with a Shotgun sagaciously removed the propounder.

From the Minutes

An Orator afflicted with atrophy of the organ of common-sense rose in his place in the halls of legislation and pointed with pride to his Unblotted Escutcheon. Seeing what it supposed to be the finger of scorn pointed at it, the Unblotted Escutcheon turned black with rage. Seeing the Unblotted Escutcheon turning black with what he supposed to be the record of his own misdeeds showing through the whitewash, the Orator fell dead of mortification. Seeing the Orator fall dead of what they supposed to be atrophy of the organ of common-sense, his colleagues resolved that whenever they should adjourn because they were tired, it should be out of respect to the memory of him who had so frequently made them so.

Three of a Kind

A Lawyer in whom an instinct of justice had survived the wreck of his ignorance of law was retained for the defence of a burglar whom the police had taken after a desperate struggle with someone not in custody.

In consultation with his client the Lawyer asked, "Have you accomplices?"

"Yes, sir," replied the Burglar. "I have two, but neither has been taken. I hired one to defend me against capture, you to defend me against conviction."

This answer deeply impressed the Lawyer, and having ascertained that the Burglar had acc.u.mulated no money in his profession he threw up the case.

The Fabulist and the Animals

A Wise and ill.u.s.trious Writer of Fables was visiting a travelling menagerie with a view to collecting literary materials. As he was pa.s.sing near the Elephant, that animal said:

"How sad that so justly famous a satirist should mar his work by ridicule of people with long noses--who are the salt of the earth!"

The Kangaroo said:

"I do so enjoy that great man's censure of the ridiculous--particularly his attacks on the Proboscidae; but, alas! he has no reverence for the Marsupials, and laughs at our way of carrying our young in a pouch."

The Camel said:

"If he would only respect the sacred Hump, he would be faultless. As it is, I cannot permit his fables to be read in the presence of my family."

The Ostrich, seeing his approach, thrust her head in the straw, saying:

"If I do not conceal myself, he may be reminded to write something disagreeable about my lack of a crest or my appet.i.te for sc.r.a.p-iron; and although he is inexpressibly brilliant when he devotes himself to censure of folly and greed, his dulness is matchless when he transcends the limits of legitimate comment."

"That," said the Buzzard to his mate, "is the distinguished author of that glorious fable, 'The Ostrich and the Keg of Raw Nails.' I regret to add, that he wrote, also, 'The Buzzard's Feast,' in which a carrion diet is contumeliously disparaged. A carrion diet is the foundation of sound health. If nothing else but corpses were eaten, death would be unknown."

Seeing an attendant approaching, the wise and ill.u.s.trious Writer of Fables pa.s.sed out of the tent and mingled with the crowd. It was afterward discovered that he had crept in under the canvas without paying.

A Revivalist Revived

A Revivalist who had fallen dead in the pulpit from too violent religious exercise was astonished to wake up in Hades. He promptly sent for the Adversary of Souls and demanded his freedom, explaining that he was entirely orthodox, and had always led a pious and holy life.

"That is all very true," said the Adversary, "but you taught by example that a verb should not agree with its subject in person and number, whereas the Good Book says that contention is worse than a dinner of herbs. You also tried to release the objective case from its thraldom to the preposition, and it is written that servants should obey their masters. You stay right here."

The Debaters

A Hurled-Back Allegation, which, after a brief rest, had again started forth upon its mission of mischief, met an Ink-stand in mid-air.

"How did the Honourable Member whom you represent know that I was coming again?" inquired the Hurled-back Allegation.

"He did not," the Inkstand replied; "he isn't at all forehanded at repartee."

"Why, then, do you come, things being even when he had hurled me back?"

"He wanted to be a little ahead."

Two of the Pious

A Christian and a Heathen in His Blindness were disputing, when the Christian, with that charming consideration which serves to distinguish the truly pious from the wolves that perish, exclaimed:

"If I could have my way, I'd blow up all your G.o.ds with dynamite."

"And if I could have mine," retorted the Heathen in His Blindness, bitterly malevolent but oleaginuously suave, "I'd fan all yours out of the universe."