"I am lost!" cried the Millet-seed. "Yet I do not repine so much for myself as for those countless multitudes who, deprived of me, are now doomed to perish miserably of starvation!" * * * * * "I have given up dancing," said the Tongs, "for they no longer dance with the Elegance and Grace that were universal in _my_ young days!" * * * * * "But for the Mercy of Providence," said the Fox, piously, to the Goose whom he found in a trap that had been set for himself, "our respective situations might now be reversed!" * * * * * "She really sang quite nicely," remarked the Cuckoo, after she had been to hear the Nightingale one evening, "but it's a pity her range is so sadly limited!" * * * * * The Mendicant insisted on making his Will: "But what hast _thou_ to leave when thou diest?" cried the Scribe. "As much as the richest," he replied; "for when I die, I leave the entire World!" _Note._--This is (if not incorrectly translated) a grotesque and puerile allegation. The veriest tyro is aware that when a Millionaire hops the twig of his existence, he leaves more behind him than a mere Mendicant!--H. B. J. * * * * * "Forgive me," said the Toad to the Swallow, "but, although you may not be aware of it, you are flying on totally false principles!" "Am I?" said the Swallow meekly. "I'm so sorry! Do you mind showing me how _you_ do it?" "I don't fly myself," said the Toad, with an air of superiority. "I've other things to do--but I have thoroughly mastered the theory of the Art." "Then teach _me_ the theory!" said the Swallow. "Willingly," said the Toad; "my fee--to _you_--will be two worms a lesson." * * * * * "I can't bear to think that no one will weep for me when I am gone!" said the sentimental Fly, as he flew into the eye of a Moneylender. _Note.--Cf._ Poet Byron: "'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come!"--H. B. J. * * * * * A certain Cockatrice, feeling sociably inclined, entered a Mother's Meeting, bent upon making himself agreeable--but was greatly mortified to find himself but coldly received. "Women _are_ so particular about trifles!" he reflected bitterly. "I know I said 'Good Afternoon' with my mouth full--but, as I explained, I had just been lunching at the Infant School!" * * * * * "I want to be _useful!_" said the Silkworm, as she sat down and "set" a sock for a Decayed Centipede. * * * * * A Traveller demanded hospitality from fourteen Kurds, who were occupying one small tent.