Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

A ghost meeting a genie, one wintry night, said to him: 

“Extremely harassing weather, friend.  Wish I had some teeth to chatter!”

“You do not need them,” said the other; “you can always chatter those of other people, by merely showing yourself.  For my part, I should be content with some light employment:  would erect a cheap palace, transport a light-weight princess, threaten a small cripple—­or jobs of that kind.  What are the prospects of the fool crop?”

“For the next few thousand years, very good.  There is a sort of thing called Literature coming in shortly, and it will make our fortune.  But it will be very bad for History.  Curse this phantom apparel!  The more I gather it about me the colder I get.”

“When Literature has made our fortune,” sneered the genie, “I presume you will purchase material clothing.”

“And you,” retorted the ghost, “will be able to advertise for permanent employment at a fixed salary.”

This fable shows the difference between the super natural and the natural “super”:  the one appears in the narrative, the other does not.