The Damsel and the Sage | Page 3

to you--if you can avoid being
ridiculous.
* * * * *
"More questions?" exclaimed the Sage, as the Damsel tapped gently
upon the door of his cave.
"Women are never satisfied; they are as restless as the sea, and when
they have received all the best advice they invariably follow their own
inclinations."
"It was not to discuss women," replied the Damsel, timidly; "this time it
is of a man I wish to ask."
"Begin, then, and have done quickly," growled the Sage, averting his
head. The Damsel had an outline against the sky which caused ideas
not tranquillizing for Hermits.

"I wish to know why a man who possessed the most beautiful and
noble Bird of Paradise--a bird of rare plumage and wonderful
qualities--should suddenly see more beauty in an ordinary Cockatoo,
whose only attraction was its yellow feathers--a Cockatoo that
screamed monotonously as it swung backward and forward on its perch,
and would eat sugar out of the hand of any stranger while it cried
'Pretty Poll.' The man could not afford to buy this creature also, so he
deliberately sold his exquisite Bird of Paradise to a person called
Circumstance and with the money became the possessor of the
Cockatoo, who pierced the drums of his ears with its eternal 'Pretty
Poll' and wearied his sight with its yellow feathers. Why did the man do
this?"
The Sage laughed at so simple a question.
"Because he was a man, and even a screaming Cockatoo belonging to
some one else has more charm at times than the most divine Bird of
Paradise belonging to himself."
"But was it worth while to sell this rare thing for a very ordinary one?"
demanded the Damsel.
"Certainly not," said the Sage, impatiently. "What childish questions
you ask! The thing was a folly on the face of it; but, as I said before, he
was a man--and the Cockatoo belonged to some one else!"
"Then what will happen now?" asked the Damsel, placing herself in the
direction in which the Sage had turned his head.
"The Bird of Paradise will still be the most beautiful and glorious and
desirable bird in the world; and when the man realizes he has lost it
forever he will begin to value its every feather, and will spend his days
in comparing all its remembered perfections and advantages with the
screams and the yellow feathers of the Cockatoo."
"And what will the Cockatoo do?" inquired the Damsel.
"It will probably continue to shriek 'Pretty Poll,' and eat sugar out of the

hand of any stranger," replied the Sage, plucking his heard.
"And the man?"
"The man will go on telling every one he has bought the most divine
bird in the world, in the hope that some one will offer him a large sum
of money for it. The only person who gains in the affair is the Bird of
Paradise, who, instead of being caged as when in the possession of the
man, is absolutely free to fly with its new master, Circumstance, who
only seeks to please and soothe this glorious bird and make life fair for
it."
"But what will be the very end?" persisted the Damsel.
The Sage turned and looked full at her. He was angry with her
importunity and would have answered sternly.
Then he saw that the ripples of her hair were golden and his voice
softened.
"That will depend--upon Circumstance," he replied, and he closed his
door softly in her face.
* * * * *
A man wishes and a woman wishes, but Circumstance frequently wins
the game.
* * * * *
Life is short--avoid causing yawns.
* * * * *
It is possible for a woman to retain the amorous affection of a man for
many years--if he only sees her for the two best hours out of each
twenty-four.
* * * * *

"Please open the door, Sage," entreated the Damsel, "and I will tell you
a story."
The Sage pushed it ajar with his foot, but he did not come out.
"There was once upon a time a man," she said, "who unexpectedly and
for no apparent reason became the possessor of a Tiger. It had been
coveted by numbers of people and was of a certain value and beauty. It
had an infinite variety of tricks. It was learned in caresses. It was fierce,
and gentle, and it could love passionately. Altogether a large price
would have been offered the man for it by many others if he had
wished to sell it. In the beginning he had greatly valued the possession
of this strange beast, and had fed it with his own hand. The little
anxiety as to whether it would eat him or not, or rush away, had kept
him