Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

A cloud was passing across the face of the sun, when the latter expostulated with him.

“Why,” said the sun, “when you have so much space to float in, should you be casting your cold shadow upon me?”

After a moment’s reflection, the cloud made answer thus: 

“I certainly had no intention of giving offence by my presence, and as for my shadow, don’t you think you have made a trifling mistake?—­not a gigantic or absurd mistake, but merely one that would disgrace an idiot.”

At this the great luminary was furious, and fell so hotly upon him that in a few minutes there was nothing of him left.

It is very foolish to bandy words with a cloud if you happen to be the sun.