“And a most triumphant one it is!” cried Babbalanja. “Thrice profound, and sapient Doxodox! Light of Mardi! and Beacon of the Universe! didst ever hear of the Shark-Syllogism?”
“Though thy epithets be true, my child, I distrust thy sincerity. I have not yet heard of the syllogism to which thou referrest.”
“It was thus. A shark seized a swimmer by the leg; addressing him: ‘Friend, I will liberate you, if you truly answer whether you think I purpose harm.’ Well knowing that sharks seldom were magnanimous, he replied: Kind sir, you mean me harm; now go your ways.’ ‘No, no; my conscience forbids. Nor will I falsify the words of so veracious a mortal. You were to answer truly; but you say I mean you harm:—so harm it is:—here goes your leg.’”
“Profane jester! Would’st thou insult me with thy torn-foolery? Begone—all of ye! tramp! pack! I say: away with ye!” and into the woods Doxodox himself disappeared.
“Bravely done, Babbalanja!” cried Media. “You turned the corner to admiration.”
“I have hopes of our Philosopher yet,” said Mohi.
“Outrageous impostor! fool, dotard, oaf! Did he think to bejuggle me with his preposterous gibberish? And is this shallow phraseman the renowned Doxodox whom I have been taught so highly to reverence? Alas, alas—Odonphi there is none!”
“His fit again,” sighed Yoomy.
CHAPTER LXVIII.
King Media Dreams
That afternoon was melting down to eve; all but Media broad awake; yet all motionless, as the slumberer upon the purple mat. Sailing on, with open eyes, we slept the wakeful sleep of those, who to the body only give repose, while the spirit still toils on, threading her mountain passes.