An improvident man, who had quarrelled
with his wife concerning household expenses, took
her and the children out on the lawn, intending to
make an example of her. Putting himself in an
attitude of aggression, and turning to his offspring,
he said:
“You will observe, my darlings,
that domestic offences are always punished with a
loss of blood. Make a note of this and be wise.”
He had no sooner spoken than a starving
mosquito settled upon his nose, and began to assist
in enforcing the lesson.
“My officious friend,”
said the man, “when I require illustrations
from the fowls of the air, you may command my patronage.
The deep interest you take in my affairs is, at present,
a trifle annoying.”
[Illustration]
“I do not find it so,”
the mosquito would have replied had he been at leisure,
“and am convinced that our respective points
of view are so widely dissimilar as not to afford
the faintest hope of reconciling our opinions upon
collateral points. Let us be thankful that upon
the main question of bloodletting we perfectly agree.”
When the bird had concluded, the man’s
convictions were quite unaltered, but he was too weak
to resume the discussion; and, although blood is thicker
than water, the children were constrained to confess
that the stranger had the best of it.
This fable teaches.