THE city of Gakwak being about to lose its character of capital of
the province of Ukwuk, the Wampog issued a proclamation convening1
all the male residents in council in the Temple of Ul to devise
means of defence. The first speaker thought the best policy would
be to offer a fried jackass to the gods. The second suggested a
public procession, headed by the Wampog himself, bearing the Holy
Poker2 on a cushion of cloth-of-brass. Another thought that a
scarlet3 mole4 should be buried alive in the public park and a
suitable incantation chanted over the remains5. The advice of the
fourth was that the columns of the capitol be rubbed with oil of
dog by a person having a moustache on the calf6 of his leg. When
all the others had spoken an Aged7 Man rose and said:
High and mighty8 Wampog and fellow-citizens, I have listened
attentively9 to all the plans proposed. All seem wise, and I do not
suffer myself to doubt that any one of them would be efficacious.
Nevertheless, I cannot help thinking that if we would put an
improved breed of polliwogs in our drinking water, construct
shallower roadways, groom10 the street cows, offer the stranger
within our gates a free choice between the poniard and the potion,
and relinquish11 our private system of morals, the other measures of
public safety would be needless.
The Aged Man was about to speak further, but the meeting informally
adjourned12 in order to sweep the floor of the temple - for the men
of Gakwak are the tidiest housewives in all that province. The
last speaker was the broom.
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