LXIX.
A snake who had lain torpid all winter in his hole took advantage of
the first warm day to limber up for the spring campaign. Having tied
himself into an intricate knot, he was so overcome by the warmth of
his own body that he fell asleep, and did not wake until nightfall. In
the darkness he was unable to find his head or his tail, and so could
not disentangle and slide into his hole. Per consequence, he froze to
death.
Many a subtle philosopher has failed to solve himself, owing to his
inability to discern his beginning and his end.
LXX.
A dog finding a joint of mutton, apparently guarded by a negligent
raven, stretched himself before it with an air of intense
satisfaction.
"Ah!" said he, alternately smiling and stopping up the smiles with
meat, "this is an instrument of salvation to my stomach--an instrument
upon which I love to perform."
"I beg your pardon!" said the bird; "it was placed there specially for
me, by one whose right to so convey it is beyond question, he having
legally acquired it by chopping it off the original owner."
"I detect no flaw in your abstract of title," replied the dog; "all
seems quite regular; but I must not provoke a breach of the peace by
lightly relinquishing what I might feel it my duty to resume by
violence.
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