Fantastic Fables | Page 6

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 the expression of the face is decidedly Tuscan, and therefore false to nature. By the way, have you read my work on 'The Fallaciousness of the Aspectual in Art'?"

The Foolish Woman

A MARRIED Woman, whose lover was about to reform by running away, procured a pistol and shot him dead.
"Why did you do that, Madam?" inquired a Policeman, sauntering by.
"Because," replied the Married Woman, "he was a wicked man, and had purchased a ticket to Chicago."
"My sister," said an adjacent Man of God, solemnly, "you cannot stop the wicked from going to Chicago by killing them."

Father and Son

"MY boy," said an aged Father to his fiery and disobedient Son, "a hot temper is the soil of remorse. Promise me that when next you are angry you will count one hundred before you move or speak."
No sooner had the Son promised than he received a stinging blow from the paternal walking-stick, and by the time he had counted to seventy-five had the unhappiness to see the old man jump into