“’Pears to me I did teach more’n I larned, come to think of it,” said the crushed Jacky-Toad. “Her what took me to Lunnon got to dance the ‘Wildfire Gallop’ somethin’ butivul ’fore I left her.”
“Why, theer it is, then! That’s very comfortin’ for ’e, for ’tis somethin’ to knaw us have done more for our betters than our betters have done for us.”
There was consolation in this—of a sort; and I am glad to leave the Jacky-Toad with a smile on his extremely plain face, because this is the end of the story.
The narrative will be seen to bristle with morals, even as a porcupine with quills. Of these I have removed as many as possible; yet one seems vital to the plot, and must be unwillingly permitted to remain. This indicates, of course, that all knowledge is not useful—if you are a Jacky-Toad.
A CELESTIAL CHAT
“WELL, old man, how goes it?” said the Comet.
“Still jogging along, old chap,” answered the Sun.
“Any news since my last round?”
“Don’t think so.”
“I suppose you know I’ve been away thirty-five millions of years?”