Jupiter sternly cut short her thanks, and continued:
"In using this means of defense and offense you will imperil your own life,
for the sting shall remain in the wound it makes and you shall die from the
loss of it."
The Bee flew around for a moment, and then lit on the back of the god's
neck.
"You will kindly reconsider that last clause," she said, "or," in a very
meaning tone, "I die right here."
Jupiter felt a cold chill take its agitated way up his spinal column.
"All right," he said, hastily. "I don't want to be small about it. Have it
your own way. Only please get off my neck!"
The Bee went joyously back to earth, humming a song of praise.
IMMORAL:
How to play a cinch (Hoyle). "Put both feet on the encircled object.
Rosin the hands, take a long breath and _Pull_."
[Illustration: The Bee and Jupiter.]
The Lion and the Boar.
One Sunday, when the new administration had induced a general thirst, a
lion and a boar came at the same moment to a corner spring to drink.
"Have one with me," said the lion. "No, sir; this is on me," said the boar.
From words they came to blows, and while they were in the press of combat
the clock struck one A.M. and they had to go home cold-sober and disgusted.
IMMORAL:
Reform is just the thing for angels.
[Illustration: The Lion and the Boar.]
The Tiger and the Deer.
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