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                     THE WHALE AND THE GRASSHOPPER
                            And Other Fables

                                   By
                             SEUMAS O'BRIEN

                         With a frontispiece by
                             Robert McCaig



                                 Boston
                       Little, Brown, and Company
                                  1916






                                   To
                           Edward J. O'Brien






LIST OF FABLES


                                           Page

        The Whale and the Grasshopper        1
        The House in the Valley             14
        Peace and War                       26
        The Valley of the Dead              36
        The King of Montobewlo              51
        The Dilemma of Matty the Goat       67
        Ham and Eggs                       101
        The White Horse of Banba           117
        Rebellions                         136
        Kings and Commoners                143
        The Folly of Being Foolish         155
        The Lady of the Moon               163
        A Bargain of Bargains              177
        Shauno and the Shah                191
        The Mayor of Loughlaurna           212
        The Land of Peace and Plenty       230
        The Linnet with the Crown of Gold  242
        The Man with the Wooden Leg        258
        The Hermit of the Grove            278
        The King of Goulnaspurra           294






THE WHALE AND THE GRASSHOPPER


When Padna Dan started talking to his friend Micus Pat as they
walked at a leisurely pace towards the town of Castlegregory on a
June morning, what he said was: "The world is a wonderful place when
you come to think about it, and Ireland is a wonderful place and
so is America, and though there are lots of places like each other,
there's no place like Ballysantamalo. When there's not sunshine there,
there's moonshine, and the handsomest women in the world live there,
and nowhere else except in Ireland or the churchyards could you find
such decent people."

"Decency," said Micus, "when you're poor is extravagance, and bad
example when you're rich."

"And why?" said Padna.

"Well," said Micus, "because the poor imitate the rich and the rich
give to the poor and when the poor give to each other they have
nothing of their own."

"That's communism you're talking," said Padna, "and that always comes
before education and enlightenment. Sure, if the poor weren't decent
they'd be rich, and if the rich were decent they'd be poor, and if
every one had a conscience there'd be less millionaires."

"'Tis a poor bird that can't pick for himself."

"But suppose a bird had a broken wing and couldn't fly to where the
pickings were?" said Micus.

"Well, then bring the pickings to him. That would be charity."

"But charity is decency and wisdom is holding your tongue when you
don't know what you're talking about."

"If the people of Ballysantamalo are so decent, how is it that there
are so many bachelors there? Do you think it right to have all the
young women worrying their heads off reading trashy novels and doing
all sorts of silly things like fixing their hair in a way that was
never intended by nature and doing so for years and years and having
nothing in the end but the trouble of it all?"

"Well, 'tis hard blaming the young men because every young lady
you meet looks better to you than the last until you meet the next,
and so you go from one to another until you're so old that no one
would marry you at all unless you had lots of money, a bad liver,
and a shaky heart."

"An old man without any sense, lots of money, a bad liver, and a shaky
heart can always get a young lady to marry him," said Micus, "though
rheumatics, gout, and a wooden leg are just as good in such a case."

"Every bit," said Padna, "but there's nothing like a weak constitution,
a cold climate, and a tendency to pneumonia."

"Old men are queer," said Micus.

"They are," said Padna, "and if they were all only half as wise as
they think they are, then there'd be only young fools in the world. I
don't wonder a bit at the suffragettes. And a time will come when we
won't know men from women unless someone tells us so."

"Wisha, 'tis my belief that there will be a great reaction some day,
because women will never be able to stand the strain of doing what
they please without encountering opposition. When a man falls into
love he falls into trouble likewise, and when a woman isn't in trouble
you may be sure that there's something wrong with her."

"Well," said Padna, "I think we will leave the women where the Devil
left St. Peter,--"

"Where was that?" asked Micus.

"Alone," answered Padna.

"That would be all very fine if they stayed there," said Micus.

"Now," said Padna, "as I was talking of my travels in foreign parts,
I want to tell you about the morning I walked along the beach at
Ballysantamalo, and a warm morning it was too. So I ses to meself,
'Padna Dan,' ses I, 'what kind of a fool of a man are you? Why don't
you take a swim for yourself?' So I did take a swim, and I swam to the
rocks where the seals go to get their photographs taken, and while I
was having a rest for myself I noticed a grasshopper sitting a short
distance away and 'pon my word, but he was the most sorrowful-looking
grasshopper I ever saw before or since. Then all of a sudden a monster
whale comes up from the sea and lies down beside him and ses: 'Well,'
ses he, 'is that you? Who'd ever think of finding you here! Why
there's nothing strange under the sun but the ways of woman.'

"''Tis me that's here, then,' ses the grasshopper. 'My grandmother
died last night and she wasn't insured either.'

"'The practice of negligence is the curse of mankind and the root
of sorrow,' ses the whale. 'I suppose the poor old soul had her fill
of days, and sure we all must die, and 'tis cheaper to be dead than
alive at any time. A man never knows that he's dead when he is dead,
and he never knows he's alive until he's married.'

"'You're a great one to expatiate on things you know nothing about
like the barbers and the cobblers,' said the grasshopper. 'I only
want to know if you're coming to the funeral to-morrow.'

"'I'm sorry I can't,' ses the whale. 'My grandfather is getting married
for the tenth time and I was in China on the last few occasions. I must
pay my respects by being present at to-morrow's festivities,' ses he.

"'I'm sorry you can't come,' ses the grasshopper, 'because you are
heartily welcome and you'd add prestige to the ceremony besides.'

"'I know that,' ses the whale, 'but America don't care much about
ceremony.'

"'Who told you that?' ses the grasshopper.

"'Haven't I my eyesight, and don't I read the newspapers?' ses
the whale.

"'You mustn't read the society columns, then,' ses the grasshopper.

"'Wisha, for the love of St. Crispin,' ses the whale, 'have they
society columns in the American newspapers?'

"'Indeed they have,' ses the grasshopper, 'and they oftentimes devote
a few columns to other matters when the dressmakers don't be busy.'

"'America is a strange country surely, a wonderful country, not to
say a word about the length and breadth of it. I swam around it twice
last week without stopping, to try and reduce my weight, and would
you believe me that I was tired after the journey, but the change of
air only added to my proportions?'

"'That's too bad,' ses the grasshopper.

"'Are you an American?' ses the whale.

"'Of course I am,' ses the grasshopper. 'You don't think 'tis the
way I'd be born at sea and no nationality at all, like yourself. I'm
proud of my country.'

"'And why, might I ask?'

"'Well, don't we produce distinguished Irishmen, and make Americans
of the Europeans and Europeans of the Americans? Think of all the
connoisseurs who wouldn't buy a work of art in their own country, when
they could go to Europe and pay ten times the value for the pot-boilers
that does be turned out in the studios of Paris and London.'

"'There's nothing like home industry,' ses the whale, 'in a foreign
country, I mean.'

"'After all, who knows anything about a work of art but the artist,
and very little he knows about it either. A work of art is like a
flower; it grows, it happens. That's all. And unless you charge the
devil's own price for it, people will think you are cheating them.'

"'Wisha, I suppose the best any one can do is to take all you can get
and if you want to be a philanthropist give away what you don't want,'
ses the grasshopper.

"'All worth missing I catches,' ses the whale, 'and all worth
catching I misses, like the fisherman who lost the salmon and caught
a crab. How's things in Europe? I didn't see the papers this morning.'

"'Europe is in a bad way,' ses the grass