The city of Gakwak being about to
lose its character of capital of the province of
Ukwuk, the Wampog issued a proclamation convening
all the male residents in council in the Temple of
Ul to devise means of defence. The first speaker
thought the best policy would be to offer a fried
jackass to the gods. The second suggested a
public procession, headed by the Wampog himself, bearing
the Holy Poker on a cushion of cloth-of-brass.
Another thought that a scarlet mole should be buried
alive in the public park and a suitable incantation
chanted over the remains. The advice of the
fourth was that the columns of the capitol be rubbed
with oil of dog by a person having a moustache on
the calf of his leg. When all the others had
spoken an Aged Man rose and said:
“High and mighty Wampog and
fellow-citizens, I have listened attentively to all
the plans proposed. All seem wise, and I do not
suffer myself to doubt that any one of them would
be efficacious. Nevertheless, I cannot help
thinking that if we would put an improved breed of
polliwogs in our drinking water, construct shallower
roadways, groom the street cows, offer the stranger
within our gates a free choice between the poniard
and the potion, and relinquish our private system
of morals, the other measures of public safety would
be needless.”
The Aged Man was about to speak further,
but the meeting informally adjourned in order to
sweep the floor of the temple — for the men
of Gakwak are the tidiest housewives in all that province.
The last speaker was the broom.
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