"Except," the dog pleaded, "that they should n't muzzle me in the heat of the day." "Well, now, boys--" the angel was awkward with his hands--"I take it you 've all got a complaint to make against man. You object, I infer, to his shooting at you with guns, except, as he is entitled to, in self-defense. And I take it our friend the elephant also objects to being exhibited. On the whole, you object to the present attitude of man. Now, what do you want me to do?" "We want you," the lion said, "to have God make man stop attacking us." "Well, now--" the angel shifts from one foot to the other--"well, now, you 've touched on a very delicate situation. On all subjects, of course, you 'll find God kind--I might say, to a degree. But the subject of Man is just a wee bit touchy. "God, you know, is very much interested in Man. He thinks a lot of man, and He is very much inclined to let man have his own way. "So whether He 'd listen to a complaint against man or not, I don't rightly know. Personally, between me and you, I think it might be dangerous to put it that way. "But I 'll tell you what I 'll do. I 'll wait until some fine day when they tell me He 's in good humor, when He's pleased about Man having thought out some new fine scheme, or made a discovery, and then I 'll tackle Him, nice and easy. "Yes, I 'll take it up some day, and I 'll see what I can do. I 'm sure if I can get Him in a good humor, I can do something. Will that satisfy you?" "It will not," said the animals. "Well, then, what do you want me to do?" "We want you," the tiger's sibilant purr came, "to go from us to God now, to-night." "Och! have sense! You don't know what you 're asking. I suppose you think I 've only got to knock at the door and ask God to come out and talk it over, and offer Him a pinch of snuff, maybe, and ask Him how the weather 's agreeing with Him. Do you know this wee earth is only one of a million? Of course you can't comprehend that, being only animals and having no reason." There is something like a snort from the elephant. The Angel of the Lord ventures a timid glance in that direction, but says nothing. The angel is rather in awe of the elephant, as a mother might be of a genius child. He switches to a different point: "Besides, I suppose you think there are only a few angels of us in it--myself and the Angel of the Changing Seasons, and the Angel of the Growing Crops, and the Angel of the Rivers and Streams, and the Angel of the Five Oceans. Well, let me tell you, there's archangels, and there's powers and dominions, and cherubim and seraphim, and God knows what else. And there's angels you never heard of: there's the Angel of the Progress of Education, and there 's the Angel of Economic Conditions, and the Angel of Atomic Energy. All very clever fellows--geniuses, you might say. And there 's the Angel of Arts and Crafts, a sloppy-looking lad I would n't be caught talking to.