THE WATCHES.
A knot of friends, invited to a feast,
At table sat—a loitering guest,
Who came long after all the rest,
Sought for his tardiness to make excuse:
And, by his comrades for a reason pressed,
Drew out his Watch, and, holding it on high,
Replied—"'Tis you are out of time, not I.
'Tis two precisely—wherefore this abuse?"
"Absurd!" they answered. "Friend, your Watch is slow.
The rest of us came near an hour ago."
"But"—said the loiterer—"what needs argue more?
I trust my Watch, as I have said before."
Now let each wiser man this reference take
To foolish authors, who gross blunders make;
Then quote—in order to make good their stand—
The first authority that comes to hand.
But with our story we will now go on.
The guests all round next eagerly began
To pull their Watches out to test the fact,—
For all men like to prove their words exact;—
One at the quarter stood; at half, another;
One made it six and thirty minutes past;
This fourteen more, that ten less than the last.
No single Watch agreed with any other.
Then, all was doubt and question and vexation.
By luck, their entertainer chanced to be
A great proficient in astronomy.
He, his Chronometer by observation
Carefully set, consulted—and the hour
Was three o'clock and just two minutes more.
Thus he concluded all the disputation:
"To quote opinion and authority
Against the truth, if any one can see
The use—no point needs unsupported be.
For all can surely see, and must admit, forsooth,
Many opinions there may be—but only one is truth!"
FABLE LIX.
THE MOLE AND OTHER ANIMALS.
Some four-footed creatures
Assembled one day,
At the game of the blind man
Together to play.
A Dog and a Monkey,
Brimful of his tricks—
With a Fox, Hare and Eat,
And a Squirrel—made six.
The Monkey, he blinded
The eyes of the whole;
Because of his hands
He had better control.
A Mole heard their frolic;
And said,—"Surely I
For this fun am just fitted—
I think I will try."
He asks to come in;
The Monkey agreed.
Some mischief, I doubt not,
He had in his head.
The Mole, at each step,
Would stumble and blunder.
With his skin-covered eyes,
It was, clearly, no wonder.
At the very first trial,—
As well may be thought,—
Without much ado,
His Moleship was caught.
To be blind-man, of course,
To him it now fell:
And who was there fitted
To act it so well?
But, to get up a sham—
With affected surprise,
Said he,—"What are we doing?
You've not blinded my eyes."
If a creature purblind
Thus pretends he can see,
Will the blockhead confess himself
Stupid—think ye?