More Fables | Page 7

as you see in Comic Opera. It was a genuine Olga
Nethersole Buss, full of Linger and Adhesion. To cap the Climax he
said he would stop in and order some Violets.
As soon as the Door slammed she Staggered toward the Kitchen,
holding on to the Furniture here and there, the same as a Sardou
Heroine. In the Kitchen was a Box of Rough on Rats. Hastily
Concealing it beneath the loose Folds of her Morning Gown, she went
to her Room and looked in the Mirror.
Ah, when he saw that Cold, White Face, then he would be Sorry. Upon
Second Thought, this didn't seem to be a Moral Certainty, so she
Weakened and had the Girl take the Poison and Hide it. She said she
would Live--Live to Forget his Perfidy.
That day she went back to Mamma, and took the Cat with her.
When he came Home in the Twilight he found no Wife, no Cat--only a
Scribbled Note saying that he could no longer Deceive her; that she had
seen through his Diabolical Plan to Lull her Suspicions, and that she
was no longer Safe in the Same House.
When the Deserted Husband went to the Friend and told him what had
Happened, the Wise Bachelor said:
"I see. You did not go at her Strong enough."

MORAL: _They don't know Anything about it_.

THE FABLE OF THE EX-CHATTEL AND THE AWFUL SWAT
THAT WAS WAITING FOR THE COLONEL
In one of the States of the Sunny South there stood a war-time House
that had six white Columns along the Veranda, and the Chimney ran up
the outside of the Wall.
This House was the Abode of a Colonel who had a silver-gray Goatee
and the Manners of the Old School. All the First Families in the State
were related to him, and therefore he was somewhat Particular as to
who Lined Up with him when he took his Toddy.
He was proud of his Ancestry, and he carried the Scars to prove that he
would Resent an Insult.
Now it happened that the Thirteenth Amendment signified nothing to
him. He had been Reconstructed, but it didn't Take.
While on a Business Trip to the North he stopped at a Gaudy Hotel
with all kinds of Mirrors and Onyx Stairways.
The Head Waiter at this Hotel was a Colored Gentleman with a False
Front and a Dress Suit that fit him too soon. His Name was Mr.
Winfield. He was President of the Colored Waiters' Union,
Vice-President of the Republican County Central Committee, and
Regal Commander of the Princes of Ethiopia.
His Honors lay Heavily upon him. He showed People where to sit in
the Dining Room, and those who failed to Obey usually had to wait
fifteen or twenty Minutes for their Vermicelli.
[Illustration: THE COLONEL]
Mr. Winfield favored his Feet somewhat, which caused him to walk
Syncopated, but, everything considered, he was quite Important and

fairly Warm.
One morning the Colonel went into the Dining Room, and after he had
seated himself he called Mr. Winfield to him and said he wanted some
Hot Biscuit. At the same time he addressed Mr. Winfield as a Black
Hound. Mr. Winfield did not know that this was a Term of Endearment
in Apahatchie County, so he picked up a Silver Fruit Dish and bounced
it against the Colonel's Head.
The Colonel arose and pulled his Persuader, expecting to make it a
Case of Justifiable Homicide, but two Waiters named George and Grant
grabbed him and backed him up against the Wall.
There were other guests in the Dining Room, but they did not jump in
with any Gun Plays and make it a Race War, because Apahatchie
County was Eight Hundred Miles away. One of them Co-Operated to
the extent of Ringing three times for a Policeman.
The Officer of the Law who arrived in a few Minutes was Mr. Otis
Beasley, Most Worshipful Scribe of the Princes of Ethiopia, of which
Mr. Winfield was the Regal Commander.
Mr. Beasley walked up to Mr. Winfield, and placing his Left Hand on
his Brow, said, "Hail, Brother."
"Hail, Most Noble Prince!" responded Mr. Winfield, making the
Mystic Sign.
"What are the Objects of our Beloved Fraternity?" asked Mr. Beasley,
in a whisper.
"Hope, Coslosterousness, and Polotomy," replied the Regal
Commander.
"'Tis Well," said the Most Worshipful Scribe, giving him the Grip.
Having completed the Secret work, Mr. Beasley wanted to know what
he could do for Brother Winfield.

"Remove this Pusson," said Mr. Winfield, pointing at the Colonel.
So it came about that He who in Apahatchie County had trained them
to hop off the Sidewalk and stand Uncovered until he had passed, now
suffered the Hideous Degradation of being marched downstairs by One
of Them and then