Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

A defeated warrior snatched up his aged father, and, slinging him across his shoulders, plunged into the wilderness, followed by the weary remnant of his beaten army.  The old gentleman liked it.

“See!” said he, triumphantly, to the flying legion; “did you ever hear of so dutiful and accommodating a son?  And he’s as easy under the saddle as an old family horse!”

“I rather think,” replied the broken and disordered battalion, with a grin, “that Mr. Æneas once did something of this kind.  But his father had thoughtfully taken an armful of lares and penates; and the accommodating nature of his son was, therefore, more conspicuous.  If I might venture to suggest that you take up my shield and scimitar—­”

“Thank you,” said the aged party, “I could not think of disarming the military:  but if you would just hand me up one of the heaviest of those dead branches, I think the merits of my son would be rendered sufficiently apparent.”

The routed column passed him up the one shown in the immediate foreground of our sketch, and it was quite enough for both steed and rider.

Fabula ostendit that History repeats itself, with variations.