Fantastic Fables | Page 6

a
beautiful country, by the dusty highway which leads to the City of
Prosperous Obscurity. Lured by the flowers and the shade and charmed
by the songs of birds which invited to woodland paths and green fields,
his imagination fired by glimpses of golden domes and glittering
palaces in the distance on either hand, the Young Politician said:
"Let us, I beseech thee, turn aside from this comfortless road leading,
thou knowest whither, but not I. Let us turn our backs upon duty and
abandon ourselves to the delights and advantages which beckon from
every grove and call to us from every shining hill. Let us, if so thou
wilt, follow this beautiful path, which, as thou seest, hath a guide-board

saying, 'Turn in here all ye who seek the Palace of Political
Distinction.'"
"It is a beautiful path, my son," said the Old Politician, without either
slackening his pace or turning his head, "and it leadeth among pleasant
scenes. But the search for the Palace of Political Distinction is beset
with one mighty peril."
"What is that?" said the Young Politician.
"The peril of finding it," the Old Politician replied, pushing on.

The Thoughtful Warden

THE Warden of a Penitentiary was one day putting locks on the doors
of all the cells when a mechanic said to him:
"Those locks can all be opened from the inside - you are very
imprudent."
The Warden did not look up from his work, but said:
"If that is called imprudence, I wonder what would be called a
thoughtful provision against the vicissitudes of fortune."

The Treasury and the Arms

A PUBLIC Treasury, feeling Two Arms lifting out its contents,
exclaimed:
"Mr. Shareman, I move for a division."
"You seem to know something about parliamentary forms of speech,"

said the Two Arms.
"Yes," replied the Public Treasury, "I am familiar with the hauls of
legislation."

The Christian Serpent

A RATTLESNAKE came home to his brood and said: "My children,
gather about and receive your father's last blessing, and see how a
Christian dies."
"What ails you, Father?" asked the Small Snakes.
"I have been bitten by the editor of a partisan journal," was the reply,
accompanied by the ominous death-rattle.

The Broom of the Temple

THE city of Gakwak being about to lose its character of capital of the
province of Ukwuk, the Wampog issued a proclamation convening all
the male residents in council in the Temple of Ul to devise means of
defence. The first speaker thought the best policy would be to offer a
fried jackass to the gods. The second suggested a public procession,
headed by the Wampog himself, bearing the Holy Poker on a cushion
of cloth-of-brass. Another thought that a scarlet mole should be buried
alive in the public park and a suitable incantation chanted over the
remains. The advice of the fourth was that the columns of the capitol be
rubbed with oil of dog by a person having a moustache on the calf of
his leg. When all the others had spoken an Aged Man rose and said:
"High and mighty Wampog and fellow-citizens, I have listened
attentively to all the plans proposed. All seem wise, and I do not suffer
myself to doubt that any one of them would be efficacious.

Nevertheless, I cannot help thinking that if we would put an improved
breed of polliwogs in our drinking water, construct shallower roadways,
groom the street cows, offer the stranger within our gates a free choice
between the poniard and the potion, and relinquish our private system
of morals, the other measures of public safety would be needless."
The Aged Man was about to speak further, but the meeting informally
adjourned in order to sweep the floor of the temple - for the men of
Gakwak are the tidiest housewives in all that province. The last speaker
was the broom.

The Critics

WHILE bathing, Antinous was seen by Minerva, who was so
enamoured of his beauty that, all armed as she happened to be, she
descended from Olympus to woo him; but, unluckily displaying her
shield, with the head of Medusa on it, she had the unhappiness to see
the beautiful mortal turn to stone from catching a glimpse of it. She
straightway ascended to ask Jove to restore him; but before this could
be done a Sculptor and a Critic passed that way and espied him.
"This is a very bad Apollo," said the Sculptor: "the chest is too narrow,
and one arm is at least a half-inch shorter than the other. The attitude is
unnatural, and I may say impossible. Ah! my friend, you should see my
statue of Antinous."
"In my judgment, the figure," said the Critic, "is tolerably good, though
rather Etrurian, but