Fantastic Fables, Ambrose Bierce [the little red hen ebook txt] 📗
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travelling together are obvious.”
“I cannot do that,” said the Race Horse; “I am following my master
to Washington. I did not go fast enough to suit him, and he has
gone on ahead.”
“Who is your master?” inquired the Statesman.
“He is the Statesman who saved his country,” answered the Race
Horse.
“There appears to be some mistake,” the other said. “Why did he
wish to travel so fast?”
“So as to be there in time to get the country that he saved.”
“I guess he got it,” said the other, and limped along, sighing.
An AErophobe
A CELEBRATED Divine having affirmed the fallibility of the Bible,
was asked why, then, he preached the religion founded upon it.
“If it is fallible,” he replied, “there is the greater reason that
I explain it, lest it mislead.”
“Then am I to infer,” said his Questioner, “that YOU are not
fallible?”
“You are to infer that I am not pneumophagous.”
The Thrift of Strength
A WEAK Man going down-hill met a Strong Man going up, and said:
“I take this direction because it requires less exertion, not from
choice. I pray you, sir, assist me to regain the summit.”
“Gladly,” said the Strong Man, his face illuminated with the glory
of his thought. “I have always considered my strength a sacred
gift in trust for my fellow-men. I will take you along with me.
Just get behind me and push.”
The Good Government
“WHAT a happy land you are!” said a Republican Form of Government
to a Sovereign State. “Be good enough to lie still while I walk
upon you, singing the praises of universal suffrage and descanting
upon the blessings of civil and religious liberty. In the meantime
you can relieve your feelings by cursing the one-man power and the
effete monarchies of Europe.”
“My public servants have been fools and rogues from the date of
your accession to power,” replied the State; “my legislative
bodies, both State and municipal, are bands of thieves; my taxes
are insupportable; my courts are corrupt; my cities are a disgrace
to civilisation; my corporations have their hands at the throats of
every private interest - all my affairs are in disorder and
criminal confusion.”
“That is all very true,” said the Republican Form of Government,
putting on its hobnail shoes; “but consider how I thrill you every
Fourth of July.”
The Life Saver
AN Ancient Maiden, standing on the edge of a wharf near a Modern
Swain, was overheard rehearsing the words:
“Noble preserver! The life that you have saved is yours!”
Having repeated them several times with various intonations, she
sprang into the water, where she was suffered to drown.
“I am a noble preserver,” said the Modern Swain, thoughtfully
moving away; “the life that I have saved is indeed mine.”
The Man and the Bird
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 accumulated no money in his profession he
threw up the case.
The Fabulist and the Animals
A WISE and illustrious Writer of Fables was visiting a travelling
menagerie with a view to collecting literary materials. As he was
passing 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 appetite for scrap-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 illustrious Writer of
Fables passed 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 Inkstand 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 gods 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.”
The Desperate Object
A DISHONEST Gain was driving in its luxurious carriage through its
private park, when it saw something which frantically and
repeatedly ran against a stone wall, endeavouring to butt out its
brains.
“Hold! Hold! thou desperate Object,” cried the Dishonest Gain;
“these beautiful private grounds are no place for such work as
thine.”
“True,” said the Object, pausing; “I have other and better grounds
for it.”
“Then thou art a happy man,” said the Dishonest Gain, “and thy
bleeding head is but mere dissembling. Who art thou, great actor?”
“I am known,” said the Object, dashing itself again at the wall,
“as the Consciousness of Duty Well Performed.”
The Appropriate Memorial
A HIGH Public Functionary having died, the citizens of his town
held a meeting to consider how to honour his memory, and an Other
High Public Functionary rose and addressed the meeting.
“Mr. Chairman and Gintlemen,” said the Other, “it sames to me, and
I’m hopin’ yez wull approve the suggistion, that an appropriet way
to honour the mimory of the decaised would be to erect an emolument
sootably inscribed wid his vartues.”
The soul of the great man looked down from Heaven and wept.
A Needless Labour
AFTER waiting many a weary day to revenge himself upon a Lion for
some unconsidered manifestation of contempt, a Skunk finally saw
him coming, and posting himself in the path ahead uttered the
inaudible discord of his race. Observing that the Lion gave no
attention to the matter, the Skunk, keeping carefully out of reach,
said:
“Sir, I beg leave to point out that I have set on foot an
implacable odour.”
“My dear fellow,” the Lion replied, “you have taken a needless
trouble; I already knew that you were a Skunk.”
A Flourishing Industry
“ARE the industries of this country in a flourishing condition?”
asked a Traveller from a Foreign Land of the first man he met in
America.
“Splendid!” said the Man. “I have more orders than I can fill.”
“What is your business?” the Traveller from a Foreign Land
inquired.
The Man replied, “I make boxing-gloves for the tongues of
pugilists.”
The Self-Made Monkey
A MAN of humble birth and no breading, who held a high political
office, was passing through a forest, when he met a Monkey.
“I take it you are one of my constituents,” the Man said.
“No,” replied the Monkey; “but I will support you if you can urge a
valid claim to my approval.”
“I am a self-made man,” said the other, proudly.
“That is nothing,” the Monkey said. And going to a bigger pine, he
rose by his own unaided exertions to the top branch, where he sat,
all bedaubed with the pitch which that vegetable exudes. “Now,” he
added, “I am a self-made Monkey.”
The Patriot and the Banker
A PATRIOT who had taken office poor and retired rich was introduced
at a bank where he desired to open an account.
“With pleasure,” said the Honest Banker; “we shall be glad to do
business with you; but first you must make yourself an honest man
by restoring what you stole from the Government.”
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