The President ran his fingers through his long, carelessly disposed hair, pushing it aside from his forehead, and said: “Once on a time the king of beasts, the lion, took it into his head he would travel into foreign parts. But before leaving his kingdom he installed an old ’coon as viceroy. The lion was absent just four months to a day; and on his return he called all the principal beasts to hear their reports as to the way in which affairs had been managed in his absence. Said the fox, ‘You left an old imbecile to rule us, sire. No sooner were you gone than a rebellion broke out, and he appointed for our leader a low-born mule, whose cardinal maxim in military matters was to put off till to-morrow whatever could be just as well done to-day; whose policy was a masterly inactivity instead of a straightforward movement on the enemy’s works.’ Said the sheep, ‘The ’coon could have had peace if he had listened to me and others who wanted to draw it mild and to compromise. Such a bloodthirsty wretch as the ’coon ought to be expelled from civilized society.’ Said the horse, ‘He is too slow.’ Said the ox, ‘He is too fast.’ Said the jackass, ‘He doesn’t know how to bray; he can’t utter an inspiring note.’ Said the pig, ‘He is too full of his jokes and stories.’ Said the magpie, ‘He is a liar and a thief.’ Said the owl, ‘He is no diplomatist.’ Said the tiger, ‘He is too conservative.’ Said the beaver, ‘He is too radical.’ ‘Stop!’ roared the king,—‘shut up, every beast of you!’ At once there was silence in the assembly. Then, turning to his viceroy, the lion said, ‘Old ’coon, I wish no better proof that you have been faithful than all this abuse from opposite parties. You have done so well, that you shall be reinstalled for another term of four months!’”
“And what did the old ’coon say to that?” asked Vance.
“The old ’coon begged to be excused, protesting that he had experienced quite enough of the charms of office.”
The President held out his hand. Vance pressed it with a respectful cordiality, and withdrew from the White House.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
COMPARING NOTES.
“But thou art fled,...
Like some frail exhalation which the dawn
Robes in its golden beams,—ah! thou hast fled;
The brave, the gentle, and the beautiful,
The child of grace and genius!”