



Produced by Sandra Brown and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.






[Illustration]

COBWEBS

FROM

AN EMPTY SKULL.

BY

DOD GRILE.

ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS BY DALZIEL BROTHERS.

[Illustration]

_LONDON AND NEW YORK:_

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS

1874




To my friend,

SHERBURNE B. EATON.




CONTENTS

  Fables of Zambri, the Parsee.
  Brief Seasons of Intellectual Dissipation.
  Divers Tales.
         1. The Grateful Bear.
         2. The Setting Sachem.
         3. Feodora.
         4. The Legend of Immortal Truth.
         5. Converting a Prodigal.
         6. Four Jacks and a Knave.
         7. Dr. Deadwood, I Presume.
         8. Nut-Cracking
         9. The Magician's Little Joke
        10. Seafaring.
        11. Tony Rollo's Conclusion.
        12. No Charge for Attendance.
        13. Pernicketty's Fright.
        14. Juniper.
        15. Following the Sea.
        16. A Tale of Spanish Vengeance.
        17. Mrs. Dennison's Head.
        18. A Fowl Witch.
        19. The Civil Service in Florida.
        20. A Tale of the Bosphorus.
        21. John Smith.
        22. Sundered Hearts.
        23. The Early History of Bath.
        24. The Following Dorg.
        25. Snaking.
        26. Maud's Papa.
        27. Jim Beckwourth's Pond.
        28. Stringing a Bear.




PREFACE.


The matter of which this volume is composed appeared originally in the
columns of "FUN," when the wisdom of the Fables and the truth of the
Tales tended to wholesomely diminish the levity of that jocund sheet.
Their publication in a new form would seem to be a fitting occasion to
say something as to their merit.

Homer's "Iliad," it will be remembered, was but imperfectly
appreciated by Homer's contemporaries. Milton's "Paradise Lost" was so
lightly regarded when first written, that the author received but
twenty-five pounds for it. Ben Jonson was for some time blind to the
beauties of Shakespeare, and Shakespeare himself had but small esteem
for his own work.

Appearing each week in "FUN," these Fables and Tales very soon
attracted the notice of the Editor, who was frank enough to say,
afterward, that when he accepted the manuscript he did not quite
perceive the quality of it. The printers, too, into whose hands it
came, have since admitted that for some days they felt very little
interest in it, and could not even make out what it was all about.
When to these evidences I add the confession that at first I did not
myself observe anything extraordinary in my work, I think I need say
no more: the discerning public will note the parallel, and my modesty
be spared the necessity of making an ass of itself.

D.G.




FABLES OF ZAMBRI, THE PARSEE.

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I.


A certain Persian nobleman obtained from a cow gipsy a small oyster.
Holding him up by the beard, he addressed him thus:

"You must try to forgive me for what I am about to do; and you might
as well set about it at once, for you haven't much time. I should
never think of swallowing you if it were not so easy; but opportunity
is the strongest of all temptations. Besides, I am an orphan, and very
hungry."

"Very well," replied the oyster; "it affords me genuine pleasure to
comfort the parentless and the starving. I have already done my best
for our friend here, of whom you purchased me; but although she has an
amiable and accommodating stomach, _we couldn't agree_. For this
trifling incompatibility--would you believe it?--she was about to stew
me! Saviour, benefactor, proceed."

"I think," said the nobleman, rising and laying down the oyster, "I
ought to know something more definite about your antecedents before
succouring you. If you couldn't agree with your mistress, you are
probably no better than you should be."

People who begin doing something from a selfish motive frequently drop
it when they learn that it is a real benevolence.




II.


A rat seeing a cat approaching, and finding no avenue of escape, went
boldly up to her, and said:

"Madam, I have just swallowed a dose of powerful bane, and in
accordance with instructions upon the label, have come out of my hole
to die. Will you kindly direct me to a spot where my corpse will prove
peculiarly offensive?"

"Since you are so ill," replied the cat, "I will myself transport you
to a spot which I think will suit."

So saying, she struck her teeth through the nape of his neck and
trotted away with him. This was more than he had bargained for, and he
squeaked shrilly with the pain.

"Ah!" said the cat, "a rat who knows he has but a few minutes to live,
never makes a fuss about a little agony. I don't think, my fine
fellow, you have taken poison enough to hurt either you or me."

So she made a meal of him.

If this fable does not teach that a rat gets no profit by lying, I
should be pleased to know what it does teach.




III.


A frog who had been sitting up all night in neighbourly converse with
an echo of elegant leisure, went out in the grey of the morning to
obtain a cheap breakfast. Seeing a tadpole approach,

"Halt!" he croaked, "and show cause why I should not eat you."

The tadpole stopped and displayed a fine tail.

"Enough," said the frog: "I mistook you for one of us; and if there is
anything I like, it is frog. But no frog has a tail, as a matter of
course."

While he was speaking, however, the tail ripened and dropped off, and
its owner stood revealed in his edible character.

"Aha!" ejaculated the frog, "so that is your little game! If, instead
of adopting a disguise, you had trusted to my mercy, I should have
spared you. But I am down upon all manner of deceit."

And he had him down in a moment.

Learn from this that he would have eaten him anyhow.




IV.


An old man carrying, for no obvious reason, a sheaf of sticks, met
another donkey whose cargo consisted merely of a bundle of stones.

"Suppose we swop," said the donkey.

"Very good, sir," assented the old man; "lay your load upon my
shoulders, and take off my parcel, putting it upon your own back."

The donkey complied, so far as concerned his own encumbrance, but
neglected to remove that of the other.

"How clever!" said the merry old gentleman, "I knew you would do that.
If you had done any differently there would have been no point to the
fable."

And laying down both burdens by the roadside, he trudged away as merry
as anything.




V.


An elephant meeting a mouse, reproached him for not taking a proper
interest in growth.

"It is all very well," retorted the mouse, "for people who haven't the
capacity for anything better. Let them grow if they like; but _I_
prefer toasted cheese."

The stupid elephant, not being able to make very much sense of this
remark, essayed, after the manner of persons worsted at repartee, to
set his foot upon his clever conqueror. In point of fact, he did set
his foot upon him, and there wasn't any more mouse.

The lesson imparted by this fable is open, palpable: mice and
elephants look at things each after the manner of his kind; and when
an elephant decides to occupy the standpoint of a mouse, it is
unhealthy for the latter.




VI.


A wolf was slaking his thirst at a stream, when a lamb left the side
of his shepherd, came down the creek to the wolf, passed round him
with considerable ostentation, and began drinking below.

"I beg you to observe," said the lamb, "that water does not commonly
run uphill; and my sipping here cannot possibly defile the current
where you are, even supposing my nose were no cleaner than yours,
which it is. So you have not the flimsiest pretext for slaying me."

"I am not aware, sir," replied the wolf, "that I require a pretext
for loving chops; it never occurred to me that one was necessary."

And he dined upon that lambkin with much apparent satisfaction.

This fable ought to convince any one that of two stories very similar
one needs not necessarily be a plagiarism.




VII.

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An old gentleman sat down, one day, upon an acorn, and finding it a
very comfortable seat, went soundly to sleep. The warmth of his body
caused the acorn to germinate, and it grew so rapidly, that when the
sleeper awoke he found himself sitting in the fork of an oak, sixty
feet from the ground.

"Ah!" said he, "I am fond of having an extended view of any landscape
which happens to please my fancy; but this one does not seem to
possess that merit. I think I will go home."

It is easier to say go home than to go.

"Well, well!" he resumed, "if I cannot compel circumstances to my
will, I can at least adapt my will to circumstances. I decide to
remain. 'Life'--as a certain eminent philosopher in England wilt say,
whenever there shall be an England to say it in--'is the definite
combination of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and
successive, in correspondence with external co-existences and
sequences.' I have, fortunately, a few years of this before me yet;
and I suppose I can permit my surroundings to alter me into anything I
choose."

And he did; but what a choice!

I should say that the lesson hereby imparted is one of contentment
combined with science.




VIII.


A caterpillar had crawled painfully to the top of a hop-pole, and not
finding anything there to interest him, began to think of descending.

"Now," soliloquized he, "if I only had a pair of wings, I should be
able to manage it very nicely."

So saying, he turned himself about to go down, but the heat of his
previous exertion, and that of the sun, had by this time matured him
into a butterfly.

"Just my luck!" he growled, "I never wish for anything without getting
it. I did not expect this when I came out this morning, and have
nothing prepared. But I suppose I shall have to stand it."

So he spread his pinions and made for the first open flower he saw.
But a spider happened to be spending the summer in that vegetable, and
it was not long before Mr. Butterfly was wishing himself back atop of
that pole, a simple caterpillar.

He had at last the pleasure of being denied a desire.

_Haec fabula docet_ that it is not a good plan to call at houses
without first ascertaining who is at home there.




IX.


It is related of a certain Tartar priest that, being about to
sacrifice a pig, he observed tears in the victim's eyes.

"Now, I'd like to know what is the matter with _you_?" he asked.

"Sir," replied the pig, "if your penetration were equal to that of the
knife you hold, you would know without inquiring; but I don't mind
telling you. I weep because I know I shall be badly roasted."

"Ah," returned the priest, meditatively, having first killed the pig,
"we are all pretty much alike: it is the bad roasting that frightens
us. Mere death has no terrors."

From this narrative learn that even priests sometimes get hold of only
half a truth.




X.


A dog being very much annoyed by bees, ran, quite accidentally, into
an empty barrel lying on the ground, and looking out at the bung-hole,
addressed his tormenters thus:

"Had you been temperate, stinging me only one at a time, you might
have got a good deal of fun out of me. As it is, you have driven me
into a secure retreat; for I can snap you up as fast as you come in
through the bung-hole. Learn from this the folly of intemperate zeal."

When he had concluded, he awaited a reply. There wasn't any reply; for
the bees had never gone near the bung-hole; they went in the same way
as he did, and made it very warm for him.

The lesson of this fable is that one cannot stick to his pure reason
while quarrelling with bees.




XI.


A fox and a duck having quarrelled about the ownership of a frog,
agreed to refer the dispute to a lion. After hearing a great deal of
argument, the lion opened his mouth to speak.

"I am very well aware," interrupted the duck, "what your decision is.
It is that by our own showing the frog belongs to neither of us, and
you will eat him yourself. But please remember that lions do not like
frogs."

"To me," exclaimed the fox, "it is perfectly clear that you will give
the frog to the duck, the duck to me, and take me yourself. Allow me
to state certain objections to--"

"I was about to remark," said the lion, "that while you were
disputing, the cause of contention had hopped away. Perhaps you can
procure another frog."

To point out the moral of this fable would be to offer a gratuitous
insult to the acuteness of the reader.




XII.


An ass meeting a pair of horses, late one evening, said to them:

"It is time all honest horses were in bed. Why are you driving out at
this time of day?"

"Ah!" returned they, "if it is so very late, why are you out riding?"

"I never in my life," retorted the ass angrily, "knew a horse to
return a direct answer to a civil question."

This tale shows that this ass did not know everything.

[The implication that horses do not answer questions seems to have
irritated the worthy fabulist.--TRANSLATOR.]




XIII.


A stone being cast by the plough against a lump of earth, hastened to
open the conversation as follows:

"Virtue, which is the opposite of vice, is best fostered by the
absence of temptation!"

The lump of earth, being taken somewhat by surprise, was