ADE'S FABLES

CONTENTS
The New Fable of the Private Agitator and What He Cooked Up
The New Fable of the Speedy Sprite
The New Fable of the Intermittent Fusser
The New Fable of the Search for Climate
The New Fable of the Father Who Jumped In
The New Fable of the Uplifter and His Dandy Little Opus
The New Fable of the Wandering Boy and the Wayward Parent
The New Fable of What Transpires After the Wind-up
The Dream That Came Out with Much to Boot
The New Fable of the Toilsome Ascent and the Shining Table-Land
The New Fable of the Aerial Performer, the Buzzing Blondine, and the
Daughter of Mr. Jackson
The New Fable of Susan and the Daughter and the Granddaughter, and then
Something Really Grand
The New Fable of the Scoffer Who Fell Hard and the Woman Sitting By
The New Fable of the Lonesome Camp on the Frozen Heights
The New Fable of the Marathon in the Mud and the Laurel Wreath

ILLUSTRATIONS [omitted]

ADE'S FABLES


THE NEW FABLE OF THE PRIVATE AGITATOR AND WHAT HE COOKED UP

Ambition came, with Sterling Silver Breast-Plate and Flaming Sword, and
sat beside a Tad aged 5. The wee Hopeful lived in a Frame House with
Box Pillars in front and Hollyhocks leading down toward the Pike.

"Whither shall I guide you?" asked Ambition. "Are you far enough from
the Shell to have any definite Hankering?"

"I have spent many Hours brooding over the possibilities of the
Future," replied the Larva. "I want to grow up to be a Joey in a
Circus. I fairly ache to sit in a Red Wagon just behind the Band and
drive a Trick Mule with little pieces of Looking Glass in the Harness.
I want to pull Mugs at all the scared Country Girls peeking out of the
Wagon Beds. The Town Boys will leave the Elephant and trail behind my
comical Chariot. In my Hour of Triumph the Air will be impregnated
with Calliope Music and the Smell of Pop-Corn, modified by Wild
Animals."

Ambition went out to make the proper Bookings with Destiny. When he
came back the Boy was ten years old.

"We started wrong," whispered Ambition, curling up in the cool grass
near the Day-Dreamer. "The Trick Mule and the Red Cart are all very
well for little Fraidy-Cats and Softies, but a brave Youth of High
Spirit should tread the Deck of his own Ship with a Cutlass under his
Red Sash. Aye, that is Blood gauming up the Scuppers, but is the
Captain chicken-hearted? Up with the Black Flag! Let it be give and
take, with Pieces of Eight for the Victor!"

So it was settled that the Lad was to hurry through the Graded Schools
and then get at his Buccaneering.

But Ambition came back with a revised Program. "You are now Fifteen
Years of Age," said the Wonderful Guide with the glittering Suit. "It
is High Time that you planned a Noble Career, following a Straight
Course from which there shall be no Deviation. The Pirate is a mere
swaggering Bravo and almost Unscrupulous at times. Why not be a great
Military Commander? The Procedure is Simple. Your Father gives the
Finger to the Congressman and then you step off the Boat at West Point.
Next thing you know, you are wearing a Nobby Uniform right out on the
Parade Ground, while bevies of Debutantes from New York City and other
Points admire you for the stern Profile and Military Set-Up. After
that you will subdue many Savage Tribes, and then you will march up
Pennsylvania Avenue at the head of the whole Regular Army, and the
President of the United States will be waiting on the Front Porch of
the White House to present you with a jewelled Sword on behalf of a
Grateful Nation."

"You are right," said the Stripling. His eyes were like Saucers, and
his Nostrils quivered. "I will be Commander-in-Chief, and after I am
laid away, with the Cannon booming, the Folks in this very Town will
put up a Statue of Me at the corner of Sixth and Main, so the Street-
Cars will have to circle to get around it."

Consequently, when he was in his 21st Year, he was sitting at a high
Desk in an Office watching the Birds on a Telegraph Wire. The
Knowledge he had acquired at the two Prep Schools before being pushed
into the Fresh Air ahead of Time had not made him round-shouldered.

He was a likely Chap, but he wore no Plumes.

He became dimly conscious that Ambition was squatted on the Stool next
to him.

"Up to this time we have been Dead Wrong," said the Periodical Visitor.
"There is only one Prize worth winning and that is the Love of the
Niftiest Nectarine that ever came down a Crystal Stairway from the
Celestial Regions to grace this dreary World with her Holy Presence.
Yes, I mean the One you passed this morning--the One with her hair in
a Net and the Cameo Brooch.