University of Virginia Library

XLV. PHILOSOPHY OF THE LITTLE.

Two cousins (they were but of distant degree,
But blood's thicker than water, and each was a Flea)
Met each other by chance. Bid not History tell
(For the goings of Fleas are inscrutable)
Whereabouts it was in their nightly walk
The dark kinsmen, meeting, fell into a talk
In the usual over-emphatic style
Of friends who, when after a long, long while
They meet unawares, in that unwill'd meeting
Evince, by a nervously-cordial greeting,
Keener care for each other's affairs
Than they honestly feel. For if one of them wears
A threadbare coat, though as warm perhaps
As the weather in June be the breast it wraps,
At the sight of it something shuts somewhere
In the heart, like a door in a draught of air.
Now one of these two was a fine fat Flea:
To the other, a lean one, “Coz,” quoth he,
In a tone of compassionate semi-suspicion
“You seem to be terribly out of condition.”
“Alas!” said the lean one, “friend, in me,
The ruin'd though innocent victim you see
Of one fatal error beyond recall.
My means of life I invested all
In the skin of an Ape. It was juicy and fat.
I married in haste on the strength of that,
Had a numerous family, daughters, sons,
Nor was Flea ever father of fairer ones.
Now wife and little ones, all are lost!
Ah! had I but counted the care and cost,
Or had I but dream'd of the danger and toil,
When I settled first on that fertile soil!
I confess my fault. I was taken in.
Who could guess that an Ape has so ticklish a skin?
The brute was prurient, and idle too,
With nothing better all day to do
Than scratch, scratch, scratch; you conceive the despair
Of a flea whose whole livelihood hangs by a hair.
But enough of the miseries I have gone thro'.
My illustrious friend how much better with you,
Has the world, since we parted, been wagging!” “So, so!”
Complacently nodded the other. “I know
Nothing much, on the whole, I can grumble about,
Save a plaguy sharp twinge now and then of the gout.
'Tis the fruit of good fare and the life that I lead
Which is pleasant enough.” “So it must be, indeed!”
The lean Flea said with a hungry sigh.
“But where are you living?” “Luxuriously
With my friend the Lion.” “The Lion? alack!”
The starveling stammer'd as he skipp'd back,
“Have, then, his terrible claws and teeth
Their use forgone? How! dwelling beneath
Those dread conditions, hast thou possest
A single moment of ease or rest?”
Scornfully smiled the superior Flea.
“What are his claws or his teeth to me?
Leonine talons may tear wild bulls,
They cannot fidget a flea. Fear dulls,
O foolish cousin, thy feeble wit.
Apes scratch themselves at each itching fit,
And in public pick out their private fleas,
Not resenting disgust if they get but ease.
Thine own insignificance prudently trust.
A lion bears nobly what nobleness must.
Of a friend's experience this maxim learn,
And I'll warrant you, Cousin, 'twill serve your turn:
From a world of foes wouldst thou live exempt?
Then shelter thyself in the world's contempt.
'Tis a fortune subscribed by all creatures for thee.
Go, trade on it! safe—if thou art but a flea.”