But the proud Icicle shook her head. “No,” she said, “you are entirely too common to play with me; I am a princess.”
“I’ll show the world what you are, you silly thing,” called Grandfather Sun from his cloud chariot. So he sent some of his children, the Sunbeams, to breathe on Miss Icicle’s head. This made her feel so sick that she wept great tears. The more she wept the thinner she grew, till at last a tiny pool of water was all that was left. (Text.)
(2506)
A gourd wound itself around a lofty palm, and in a few weeks climbed to its very top. “How old mayest thou be?” asked the gourd. “About a hundred years,” was the reply. “A hundred years and no taller! Only look, I have grown as tall as you in less than a hundred days,” said the puffed-up gourd. The stately palm calmly replied: “I know that well. Every summer of my life a gourd has climbed up my body and spread over my branches, as proud as thou art, and as short-lived as thou shalt be.”
(2507)
See [Vanity].
PRIDE IN ONE’S TASK
The following is told of John F. Stevens, who was appointed by President Roosevelt to take charge of the Panama Canal:
Sometime in the seventies, and somewhere in Arizona, both the time and place where the Apaches were very seriously on the warpath, it became necessary to send a message across a hundred or two miles of desert. There was offered a reward of five hundred dollars to the man who would carry it. The peril was undeniable and nobody seemed to consider the reward worth the probable cost of it. But presently John Stevens undertook to deliver the message. He eluded the Apaches and made the journey successfully on foot, but declined the five hundred dollars. The thing had been there to do; he preferred to do it for its own sake. (Text.)—American Magazine.