HOSPITALITY
"I hear," said the hospitable man, "that my friend has come from over seas. Now therefore let us do thus and so, for he is the man of all men whom I delight to honor."
So the hospitable man hurried to and fro all day, gathering this that was rich, and that that was costly, and the other that was delicate; and bidding his acquaintance come and help him do honor to his friend.
Next day he met another friend, who was a physician.
"Whither away so fast?" asked the hospitable man.
"Do not stay me!" said the physician. "The case is urgent. I am going to So-and-So." And he named the friend from over seas.
"You distress me infinitely!" cried the hospitable man. "Is So-and-So ill?"
"Some rascal poisoned him last night," said the physician. "A bad business. I doubt if he recovers."
"Good God!" cried the hospitable man. "He dined with me last night."
"Oh! was it you?" said the physician.
THE POT
The great Pot boiled and bubbled over the crackling flames. Fat and lean, sweet and bitter, had gone to fill it, and all seethed merrily together. "Hubble bubble!" said the Pot.
Now it came to pass after a time that a certain part of what was within rose to the top, and mantled there, frothing and eddying.
"I am the cream!" it said. "This is my proper place, the top of the Pot.
Under me the mass seethes darkling, and from it I rise to light and air.
My glory rejoices; this is as it should be!"
Now came the Cook, and lifted the lid of the Pot and looked in. "Ah!" he said. "The scum has risen, and must be taken off, lest the meat be spoiled." And he took it off.
"Hubble bubble!" said the Pot.
THE BODY
"But you don't understand!" said the Soul. "It is my body that makes all the trouble. Its nerves are all atwist, its brain does not work properly, its heart is too small. _I_ am all right: if I could have another chance, in a decently furnished body, you would see what a different creature I should be."
"Very well!" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things. "I know several other souls who are wishing for a change; you may try their bodies, and see if you can suit yourself."
The Soul thanked the Angel joyfully, and flew in the direction he pointed out. Presently he came to the body of a fair woman, clad in white, with roses in its hands.
"This is beautiful!" said the Soul. "This is exactly what I want." He crept in, and flowed through the white body, and it moved and rose up with him, and went to and fro.
But soon the Soul cried out: "Oh! this body pinches me; it is too tight.
Besides, it has the habit of fasting, and mortification, and I am used to a body that smokes. This will never do!" And he crept out again, and went further.
Presently he came to a stalwart body of a man, with bones and sinews knit of iron.
"Ah!" said the Soul. "Beauty is after all a slight thing. Strength is what one needs; this is the body for me." And he slipped in, and flowed through the body, and it moved, and rose up with him, and walked with swift and powerful strides.
"Good heavens!" cried the Soul. "This will never do. This body is far too big for me; I feel it all loose, and full of cold draughts. I shall certainly get the rheumatism. And I don't care about these things it is doing, hewing wood and carrying water for other people. I have made a mistake; let me correct it before it is too late!" and he crept out.
Going further, he came upon a body sunk in an easy-chair, clad in loose and easy garb of a man, and by it a table with glasses and bottles: and the Soul yearned toward it. "Ah!" cried the Soul. "After all, there is nothing like one's own!" And he crept into the body, and flowed through and through it; and the body stretched itself with a long, long sigh, and put its hand out to the bottle, and drank, and chuckled to itself.
"But how about those others who wanted a change?" asked the Soul of the Angel-who-attends-to-things. "I trust I am not disappointing any of them in taking up this dear old comfortable body again?"
"Oh no!" said the Angel. "They did not like its looks at all, and decided to go on to another world."
THE RULER.
When it was time for the Child to have lessons, the Teacher-Angel gave him a sheet of paper, smooth and white, and a pencil, and a ruler.
"Write as well as you can," he said; "and mind you keep the lines straight!"
The Child admired the ruler greatly; "I will put it up on the wall," he said, "where I can see it always." So he put it up on the wall, and the sunbeams, hardly brighter than itself, sparkled on it.
"It must be pure gold," said the Child; "there is nothing else so beautiful in the world." And then he began his task.
By and by the lesson time was over, and the Teacher-Angel came to see what had been done. The Child showed him the paper on which he had written his task. Up and down went the lines, here and there, from side to side of the sheet, which was covered with sprawling, straggling letters. There were smudges, too, where he had tried to rub something out; it was not a pretty page.
"What is this?" asked the Teacher-Angel. "Where is your ruler?"
"There it is," said the Child. "Up on the wall. It was so beautiful, I put it up there where I could see it always. See where it hangs! But methinks it is not so bright as it was."
"No!" said the Teacher-Angel. "It would have been brighter if you had used it."
"But I admired it greatly," said the Child.
"But your lines are crooked!" said the Angel.