I shall not undertake to provide a note to every parable, but only in cases where I think that the Parabolist is not quite as luminous as the nose on one's face, and needs the services of an experienced interpreter.
H. B. J.
The Butterfly visited so many flowers that she fell sick of a surfeit of nectar. She called it "Nervous Breakdown."
"Instead of vainly lamenting over those we have lost," said the young Cuckoo severely, to the Father and Mother Sparrow, "it seems to me that you should be rejoicing that I am still spared to you!"
Note.—A mere plagiaristic adaptation of the trite adage concerning the comparative values of birds in the hand and in the bush.—H. B. J.
"I am old enough to be thy Grandfather!" the Egg informed the Chicken.
"In that case," replied the Chicken, "it is high time thou bestirredst thyself!"
"Not so!" said the Egg, "since the longer I remain quiescent, the fitter I shall be for the career that is destined for me."