The question of the Presidency brings the scattered groups to the centre of the garden, and to business. When all are seated and expectant, the Ass brays out silence, quite needlessly, as the only audible sound was caused by a Flea sneezing in his ear. His supporters had prepared a speech for him, and his assurance, gravity, and weight obtained him a hearing. It was whispered that the honourable member was about to move that his ancient policy of progressing backward should be steadily kept in view. The orator, so adjusting his ears as to catch the faintest murmur of applause, flourished his tail impressively, and proceeded—
“Fellow-quadrupeds, and brother brutes of all climes and conditions, the question of the Presidency of this noble Assembly is one of primary importance. In order to lift the burdens from your backs, as the lineal descendant of Balaam’s ass, I offer myself as candidate for the position, hedged round as it is with difficulty and danger. It is needless to remind you of the hereditary attributes which qualify me for the office of President—firmness verging on obstinacy, patience under affliction, and a rooted determination to kick against all opposition.” Here the speaker was interrupted by the Wolf, who protested against the presumption of this slave of man. Stung to the heart, the honourable Ass was about to indulge his time-honoured habit of kicking up his heels, when he was called to order by the Bear.
“Brothers,” said the Bear, “let not the heat of party feeling, added to the stifling air of Paris, compel me to return to my native climb, the North Pole. There my suffering has been great, but in the Arctic Circle I can grin and bear it as becomes my nature. Here, in a circle so refined, such brawling is only fit for men whose fiery tempers dry up the fountain of their love.” The Seal trembled at the sound of the dreaded voice.
The Lion roared and restored order, while the Fox unobserved slipped into the tribune, and in a brief but subtle speech so eulogised the Mule—who carried a useful appendage in the shape of a bell—that he was chosen President.
The Mule takes the chair, and the tinkling of his bell is followed by silence broken for an instant by the Watch-dog—who fancied himself at his master’s door—gruffly inquiring, “Who’s there?”
The Wolf casts a scornful glance at the poor confused brute.
The Parroquet and Cat, preparing quills supplied by the Goose, seat themselves at the table as Secretaries.
The Lion ascends the tribune with imposing gravity; “shaking the dewdrops from his mane,” he denounces in a voice of thunder the tyranny of mankind, and continues: “There is but one way of escape open for all! Fly with me to Africa, to the sweet solitudes of boundless deserts and primeval forests, where we can hold our own against the inroads of degenerate humanity! Far from sheltering walls man is powerless against the noble animals I see around me. Cities are men’s refuge, and few there are of the lion-hearted among them, if I may use the expression” [ironical cheers from the Tiger], “who would meet us face to face in our native wilds.” The speaker concluded with a glowing picture of the proud independence of animal life in Africa.
The Elephant advocated emigration to Central Africa. “It is a land,” said he, “where teeth and tusks are excellent passports, and where every traveller ought to carry his own trunk full of water.” This latter remark was objected to by the Hippopotamus, who held that water would be more useful if left in swamps and rivers.