The History of a Mouthful of Bread | Page 4

the same end.
The large ox, too, of whom you are so much afraid, because you cannot as yet be persuaded what a good-natured beast he really is, and how unlikely to do any harm to children who do none to him--that large ox began life as a small calf, and it is the grass which he has been eating for some time past which has transformed him into the huge mass of flesh you now see, and which by-and-by will be eaten by man, to become man's flesh in the same manner.
But, further, still: Even the forest trees, which grow so high and spread so wide, were at first no bigger than your little finger, and all the grandeur and size you now look upon, they have taken in by the process of eating. "What, _do trees eat?_" you ask.
Verily, do they; and they are, by no means, the least greedy of eaters, for they eat day and night without ceasing. Not, as you may suppose, that they crunch bonbons, or anything else as you do; nor is the process with them precisely the same as with you. Yet you will be surprised hereafter, I assure you, to find how many points of resemblance exist between them and us in this matter. But we will speak further of this presently.
Now, I think you must allow that there are few fairytales more marvellous than this history of bread and meat turning into little boys and girls, milk and mice turning into cats, and grass into oxen! And I call it a _history_, observe, because it is a transformation that never happens suddenly, but by degrees, as time goes on.
Now, then, for the explanation. You have heard, I dare say, of those wonderful spinning-machines which take in at one end a mass of raw cotton, very like what you see in wadding, and give out at the other a roll of fine calico, all folded and packed up ready to be delivered to the tradespeople. Well, you have within you, a machine even more ingenious than that, which receives from you all the bread-and-butter and other sorts of food you choose to put into it, and returns it to you changed into the nails, hair, bones and flesh we have been talking about, and many other things besides; for there are quantities of things in your body, all different from each other, which you are manufacturing in this manner all day long, without knowing anything about it. And a very fortunate thing this is for you: for I do not know what would become of you if you had to be thinking from morning to night of all that requires to be done in your body, as your mother has to look after and remember all that has to be done in the house. Just think what a relief it would be to her to possess a machine which should sweep the rooms, cook the dinners, wash the plates, mend torn clothes, and keep watch over everything without giving her any trouble; and, moreover, make no more noise or fuss than yours does, which has been working away ever since you were born without your ever troubling your head about it, or probably even knowing of its existence! Just think of this and be thankful.
But do not fancy you are the only possessor of a magical machine of this sort. Your kitten has one also, and the ox we were speaking of, and all other living creatures. And theirs render the same service to them that yours does to you, and much in the same way; for all these machines are made after one model, though with certain variations adapted to the differences in each animal. And, as you will see by-and-by, these variations exactly correspond with the different sort of work that has to be done in each particular case. For instance, where the machine has grass to act upon, as in the ox, it is differently constructed from that in the cat which has to deal with meat and mice. In the same way in our manufactories, though all the spinning-machines are made upon one model, there is one particular arrangement for those which spin cotton, another for those which spin wool, another for flax, and so on.
But, further:
You have possibly noticed already, without being told, that all animals are not of equal value; or, at least, to use a better expression, they have not all had the same advantages bestowed on them. The dog, for instance, that loving and intelligent companion, who almost reads your thoughts in your eyes, and is as affectionate and obedient to his master as it were to be wished all children were to their parents--this dog is, as you must own, very superior, in