Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

Having fastened his gaze upon a sparrow, a rattlesnake sprung open his spanning jaws, and invited her to enter.

“I should be most happy,” said the bird, not daring to betray her helpless condition, but anxious by any subterfuge to get the serpent to remove his fascinating regard, “but I am lost in contemplation of yonder green sunset, from which I am unable to look away for more than a minute.  I shall turn to it presently.”

“Do, by all means,” said the serpent, with a touch of irony in his voice.  “There is nothing so improving as a good, square, green sunset.”

“Did you happen to observe that man standing behind you with a club?” continued the sparrow.  “Handsome fellow!  Fifteen cubits high, with seven heads, and very singularly attired; quite a spectacle in his way.”

“I don’t seem to care much for men,” said the snake.  “Every way inferior to serpents—­except in malice.”

“But he is accompanied by a really interesting child,” persisted the bird, desperately.

The rattlesnake reflected deeply.  He soliloquized as follows: 

“There is a mere chance—­say about one chance to ten thousand million—­that this songster is speaking the truth.  One chance in ten thousand million of seeing a really interesting child is worth the sacrifice demanded; I’ll make it.”

So saying, he removed his glittering eyes from the bird (who immediately took wing) and looked behind him.  It is needless to say there was no really interesting child there—­nor anywhere else.

MORAL.—­Mendacity (so called from the inventors) is a very poor sort of dacity; but it will serve your purpose if you draw it sufficiently strong.