Cobwebs from an Empty Skull by Ambrose Bierce
page 64 of 251 (25%)
page 64 of 251 (25%)
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LXIX.
A snake who had lain torpid all winter in his hole took advantage of the first warm day to limber up for the spring campaign. Having tied himself into an intricate knot, he was so overcome by the warmth of his own body that he fell asleep, and did not wake until nightfall. In the darkness he was unable to find his head or his tail, and so could not disentangle and slide into his hole. Per consequence, he froze to death. Many a subtle philosopher has failed to solve himself, owing to his inability to discern his beginning and his end. LXX. A dog finding a joint of mutton, apparently guarded by a negligent raven, stretched himself before it with an air of intense satisfaction. "Ah!" said he, alternately smiling and stopping up the smiles with meat, "this is an instrument of salvation to my stomach--an instrument upon which I love to perform." "I beg your pardon!" said the bird; "it was placed there specially for me, by one whose right to so convey it is beyond question, he having |
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