Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

“Did it ever occur to you that this manner of thing is extremely unpleasant?” asked a writhing worm of the angler who had impaled him upon a hook.  “Such treatment by those who boast themselves our brothers is, possibly, fraternal—­but it hurts.”

“I confess,” replied the idler, “that our usages with regard to vermin and reptiles might be so amended as to be more temperately diabolical; but please to remember that the gentle agonies with which we afflict you are wholesome and exhilarating compared with the ills we ladle out to one another.  During the reign of His Pellucid Refulgence, Khatchoo Khan,” he continued, absently dropping his wriggling auditor into the brook, “no less than three hundred thousand Persian subjects were put to death, in a pleasing variety of ingenious ways, for their religious beliefs.”

“What that has to do with your treatment of us” interrupted a fish, who, having bitten at the worm just then, was drawn into the conversation, “I am quite unable to see.”

“That,” said the angler, disengaging him, “is because you have the hook through your eyeball, my edible friend.”

Many a truth is spoken in jest; but at least ten times as many falsehoods are uttered in dead earnest.