thus"--illustrating his method by laying hold of the other's
tail.

"Not at all," was the reply; "a better plan is to approach by a
circular side-sweep, thus"--turning upon his opponent and taking in
_his_ tail.

Although there was no disagreement as to the manner of disposing of
what was once seized, each began to practise his system upon the
other, and continued until both were swallowed.

The work begun by contention is frequently completed by habit.

[Illustration:]

LVI.

A man staggering wearily through the streets of Persepolis, under a
heavy burden, said to himself:

"I wish I knew what this thing is I have on my back; then I could make
some sort of conjecture as to what I design doing with it."

"Suppose," said the burden, "I were a man in a sack; what disposition
would you make of me?"

"The regular thing," replied the man, "would be to take you over to
Constantinople, and pitch you into the Bosphorus; but I should
probably content myself with laying you down and jumping on you, as
being more agreeable to my feelings, and quite as efficacious."

"But suppose," continued the burden, "I were a shoulder of
beef--which I quite as much resemble--belonging to some poor family?"

"In that case," replied the man, promptly, "I should carry you to my
larder, my good fellow."

"But if I were a sack of gold, do you think you would find me very
onerous?" said the burden.

"A great deal would depend," was the answer, "upon whom you happened
to belong to; but I may say, generally, that gold upon the shoulders
is wonderfully light, considering the weight of it."

"Behold," said the burden, "the folly of mankind: they cannot perceive
that the _quality_ of the burdens of life is a matter of no
importance. The question of pounds and ounces is the only
consideration of any real weight."

LVII.

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