“The fourth animal is mounted on a fiery dragon, that, belching flames, kindles forests, fires towns, dries rivers, blasts harvests, and swallows men, women, and sucking babes. Look to the left, and the dragon is turned to a something no bigger than a mouse, and with its stinted rations of butter and cheese.
“In the fifth and last view you see ten thousand of these animals ferociously killing, biting, tearing another ten thousand, whom they never saw till a few minutes ago, and with whom they have no quarrel. But they kill one another because they are tickled to do so. That is, certain animals go about with tickling wands called ‘glory,’ ‘deathless renown,’ ‘laurel,’ and other titillating syllables, poking in the ribs of the poor benighted creatures.”
I took my eye from the glass: “My good man, what have you shown me?”
“Fleas, sir.”
“Fleas!—nonsense; the fleas are shown above.”
“Yes, sir; but mine are the fleas with two legs; though, if I must be honest, I can’t say I see any difference between the fleas in my show-box and the fleas above.”
