Just so stories
And dig till you gently perspire;
And then you will find that the sun and the wind.
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump--
The horrible hump--
The hump that is black and blue!
I get it as well as you-oo-oo--
If I haven’t enough to do-oo-oo--
We all get hump--
Cameelious hump--
Kiddies and grown-ups too!
HOW THE RHINOCEROS GOT HIS SKIN
ONCE upon a time, on an uninhabited island on the shores of the Red Sea,
there lived a Parsee from whose hat the rays of the sun were reflected
in more-than-oriental splendour. And the Parsee lived by the Red Sea
with nothing but his hat and his knife and a cooking-stove of the kind
that you must particularly never touch. And one day he took flour and
water and currants and plums and sugar and things, and made himself one
cake which was two feet across and three feet thick. It was indeed a
Superior Comestible (that’s magic), and he put it on stove because he
was allowed to cook on the stove, and he baked it and he baked it till
it was all done brown and smelt most sentimental. But just as he
was going to eat it there came down to the beach from the Altogether
Uninhabited Interior one Rhinoceros with a horn on his nose, two piggy
eyes, and few manners. In those days the Rhinoceros’s skin fitted him
quite tight. There were no wrinkles in it anywhere. He looked exactly
like a Noah’s Ark Rhinoceros, but of course much bigger. All the same,
he had no manners then, and he has no manners now, and he never will
have any manners. He said, ‘How!’ and the Parsee left that cake and
climbed to the top of a palm tree with nothing on but his hat, from
which the rays of the sun were always reflected in more-than-oriental
splendour. And the Rhinoceros upset the oil-stove with his nose, and
the cake rolled on the sand, and he spiked that cake on the horn of his
nose, and he ate it, and he went away, waving his tail, to the desolate
and Exclusively Uninhabited Interior which abuts on the islands of
Mazanderan, Socotra, and Promontories of the Larger Equinox. Then the
Parsee came down from his palm-tree and put the stove on its legs and
recited the following Sloka, which, as you have not heard, I will now
proceed to relate:--
Them that takes cakes
Which the Parsee-man bakes
Makes dreadful mistakes.
And there was a great deal more in that than you would think.
Because, five weeks later, there was a heat wave in the Red Sea, and
everybody took off all the clothes they had. The Parsee took off his
hat; but the Rhinoceros took off his skin and carried it over his
shoulder as he came down to the beach to bathe. In those days it
buttoned underneath with three buttons and looked like a waterproof. He
said nothing whatever about the Parsee’s cake, because he had eaten
it all; and he never had any manners, then, since, or henceforward.
He waddled straight into the water and blew bubbles through his nose,
leaving his skin on the beach.
Presently the Parsee came by and found the skin, and he smiled one smile
that ran all round his face two times. Then he danced three times round
the skin and rubbed his hands. Then he went to his camp and filled his
hat with cake-crumbs, for the Parsee never ate anything but cake, and
never swept out his camp. He took that skin, and he shook that skin, and
he scrubbed that skin, and he rubbed that skin just as full of old,
dry, stale, tickly cake-crumbs and some burned currants as ever it could
possibly hold. Then he climbed to the top of his palm-tree and waited
for the Rhinoceros to come out of the water and put it on.
And the Rhinoceros did. He buttoned it up with the three buttons, and
it tickled like cake crumbs in bed. Then he wanted to scratch, but that
made it worse; and then he lay down on the sands and rolled and rolled
and rolled, and every time he rolled the cake crumbs tickled him worse
and worse and worse. Then he ran to the palm-tree and rubbed and rubbed
and rubbed himself against it. He rubbed so much and so hard that he
rubbed his skin into a great fold over his shoulders, and another fold
underneath, where the buttons used to be (but he rubbed the buttons
off), and he rubbed some more folds over his legs. And it spoiled his
temper, but it didn’t make the least difference to the cake-crumbs.
They were inside his skin and they tickled. So he went home, very angry
indeed and horribly scratchy; and from that day to this every rhinoceros
has great folds in his skin and a very bad temper, all on account of the
cake-crumbs inside.
But the Parsee came down from his palm-tree, wearing his hat, from which
the rays of the sun were reflected in more-than-oriental splendour,
packed up his cooking-stove, and went away in the direction of Orotavo,
Amygdala, the Upland Meadows of Anantarivo, and the Marshes of Sonaput.
THIS Uninhabited Island
Is off Cape Gardafui,
By the Beaches of Socotra
And the Pink Arabian Sea:
But it’s hot--too hot from Suez
For the likes of you and me
Ever to go
In a P. and O.
And call on the Cake-Parsee!
HOW THE LEOPARD GOT HIS SPOTS
IN the days when everybody started fair, Best Beloved, the Leopard lived
in a place called the High Veldt. ‘Member it wasn’t the Low Veldt, or
the Bush Veldt, or the Sour Veldt, but the ‘sclusively bare, hot, shiny
High Veldt, where there was sand and sandy-coloured rock and ‘sclusively
tufts of sandy-yellowish grass. The Giraffe and the Zebra and the Eland
and the Koodoo and the Hartebeest lived there; and they were ‘sclusively
sandy-yellow-brownish all over; but the Leopard, he was the ‘sclusivest
sandiest-yellowish-brownest of them all--a greyish-yellowish
catty-shaped kind of beast, and he matched the ‘sclusively
yellowish-greyish-brownish colour of the High Veldt to one hair. This
was very bad for the Giraffe and the Zebra and the rest of them; for
he would lie down by a ‘sclusively yellowish-greyish-brownish stone or
clump of grass, and when the Giraffe or the Zebra or the Eland or the
Koodoo or the Bush-Buck or the Bonte-Buck came by he would surprise them
out of their jumpsome lives. He would indeed! And, also, there was an
Ethiopian with bows and arrows (a ‘sclusively greyish-brownish-yellowish
man he was then), who lived on the High Veldt with the Leopard; and the
two used to hunt together--the Ethiopian with his bows and arrows, and
the Leopard ‘sclusively with his teeth and claws--till the Giraffe and
the Eland and the Koodoo and the Quagga and all the rest of them didn’t
know which way to jump, Best Beloved. They didn’t indeed!
After a long time--things lived for ever so long in those days--they
learned to avoid anything that looked like a Leopard or an Ethiopian;
and bit by bit--the Giraffe began it, because his legs were the
longest--they went away from the High Veldt. They scuttled for days
and days and days till they came to a great forest, ‘sclusively full of
trees and bushes and stripy, speckly, patchy-blatchy shadows, and there
they hid: and after another long time, what with standing half in the
shade and half out of it, and what with the slippery-slidy shadows of
the trees falling on them, the Giraffe grew blotchy, and the Zebra grew
stripy, and the Eland and the Koodoo grew darker, with little wavy grey
lines on their backs like bark on a tree trunk; and so, though you could
hear them and smell them, you could very seldom see them, and then only
when you knew precisely where to look. They had a beautiful time in the
‘sclusively speckly-spickly shadows of the forest, while the Leopard and
the Ethiopian ran about over the ‘sclusively greyish-yellowish-reddish
High Veldt outside, wondering where all their breakfasts and their
dinners and their teas had gone. At last they were so hungry that they
ate rats and beetles and rock-rabbits, the Leopard and the Ethiopian,
and then they had the Big Tummy-ache, both together; and then they met
Baviaan--the dog-headed, barking Baboon, who is Quite the Wisest Animal
in All South Africa.
Said Leopard to Baviaan (and it was a very hot day), ‘Where has all the
game gone?’
And Baviaan winked. He knew.
Said the Ethiopian to Baviaan, ‘Can you tell me the present habitat
of the aboriginal Fauna?’ (That meant just the same thing, but the
Ethiopian always used long words. He was a grown-up.)
And Baviaan winked. He knew.
Then said Baviaan, ‘The game has gone into other spots; and my advice to
you, Leopard, is to go into other spots as soon as you can.’
And the Ethiopian said, ‘That is all very fine, but I wish to know
whither the aboriginal Fauna has migrated.’
Then said Baviaan, ‘The aboriginal Fauna has joined the aboriginal Flora
because it was high time for a change; and my advice to you, Ethiopian,
is to change as soon as you can.’
That puzzled the Leopard and the Ethiopian, but they set off to look for
the aboriginal Flora, and presently, after ever so many days, they saw
a great, high, tall forest full of tree trunks all ‘sclusively speckled
and sprottled and spottled, dotted and splashed and slashed and hatched
and cross-hatched with shadows. (Say that quickly aloud, and you will
see how very shadowy the forest must have been.)
‘What is this,’ said the Leopard, ‘that is so ‘sclusively dark, and yet
so full of little pieces of light?’
‘I don’t know, said the Ethiopian, ‘but it ought to be the aboriginal
Flora. I can smell Giraffe, and I can hear Giraffe, but I can’t see
Giraffe.’
‘That’s curious,’ said the Leopard. ‘I suppose it is because we have
just come in out of the sunshine. I can smell Zebra, and I can hear
Zebra, but I can’t see Zebra.’
‘Wait a bit, said the Ethiopian. ‘It’s a long time since we’ve hunted
‘em. Perhaps we’ve forgotten what they were like.’
‘Fiddle!’ said the Leopard. ‘I remember them perfectly on the High
Veldt, especially their marrow-bones. Giraffe is about seventeen feet
high, of a ‘sclusively fulvous golden-yellow from head to heel; and
Zebra is about four and a half feet high, of a’sclusively grey-fawn
colour from head to heel.’
‘Umm, said the Ethiopian, looking into the speckly-spickly shadows of
the aboriginal Flora-forest. ‘Then they ought to show up in this dark
place like ripe bananas in a smokehouse.’
But they didn’t. The Leopard and the Ethiopian hunted all day; and
though they could smell them and hear them, they never saw one of them.
‘For goodness’ sake,’ said the Leopard at tea-time, ‘let us wait till it
gets dark. This daylight hunting is a perfect scandal.’
So they waited till dark, and then the Leopard heard something breathing
sniffily in the starlight that fell all stripy through the branches, and
he jumped at the noise, and it smelt like Zebra, and it felt like Zebra,
and when he knocked it down it kicked like Zebra, but he couldn’t see
it. So he said, ‘Be quiet, O you person without any form. I am going to
sit on your head till morning, because there is something about you that
I don’t understand.’
Presently he heard a grunt and a crash and a scramble, and the Ethiopian
called out, ‘I’ve caught a thing that I can’t see. It smells like
Giraffe, and it kicks like Giraffe, but it hasn’t any form.’
‘Don’t you trust it,’ said the Leopard. ‘Sit on its head till the
morning--same as me. They haven’t any form--any of ‘em.’
So they sat down on them hard till bright morning-time, and then Leopard
said, ‘What have you at your end of the table, Brother?’
The Ethiopian scratched his head and said, ‘It ought to be ‘sclusively a
rich fulvous orange-tawny from head to heel, and it ought to be Giraffe;
but it is covered all over with chestnut blotches. What have you at your
end of the table, Brother?’
And the Leopard scratched his head and said, ‘It ought to be ‘sclusively