CHAPTER V

SOME NOTES ON CAIN AND ABEL

My acquaintance with my great-uncles, Cain and Abel, was not

particularly intimate and in later years they are seldom spoken of by

members of the family for reasons sufficiently obvious to need no

mention here. Every family must sooner or later develop an undesirable

or two, and on the whole I think that we have done tolerably well in

having up to this time only one portrait in our Rogues' Gallery. Just

what has become of Cain no one at this writing is aware, but wherever

he is I hope when these memoirs of mine are published he will read

them far enough to note that one member of the family at least holds

him in pleasant recollection for the fun he has afforded him in the

past. The two first boys of creation were not bad fellows at all,

although as was natural, their bringing up resulted in a general

condition of pure cussedness that at times became appalling to their

parents. The fact that there had never been any other boys in the

world before placed Adam and Eve at a considerable disadvantage in

rearing these two youngsters. There were no precedents to go by, and

as a consequence the lads were permitted to do a good many things that

our modern boys would not dream of doing. There were no schools to

send them to, and no Sunday Newspapers with Woman's Pages to instruct

Eve in the Complete Science of Motherhood, so that when Cain and Abel

came along to bless the world with their presence, neither their

father nor their mother knew what on earth to do with them. Then,

too, Eve's household duties were such that they very nearly absorbed

all her time, and for years the youthful scions of this first family

in the land were left to the tender mercies of a kindly old Gorilla

who, however amiable and willing she may have been, was hardly the

kind of person a modern mother would choose as an influence in the

formative years of her children's development. I am quite aware that

in some sections of the country to-day this oldtime custom of leaving

the young to the care of servants still prevails, and in some cases it

has its distinct advantages considering the moral characteristics of

the parents who so leave them, but as a social custom to be commended

it is an entire failure, and was adopted by Eve not from choice, but

from necessity. It was not through any desire to shine in society as a

constant attendant at the Five O'Clock teas of her time, or, because

she deemed that her duty lay in trying to secure the alleged

Emancipation of her Sex from imaginary shackles at the expense of her

home life and its responsibilities; or, because she believed that the

primary duty of a mother was to provide her offspring with a maternal

relative who could expound the most abstruse philosophies of the age

with her eyes shut, that led Mother Eve into an apparent neglect of

her children. It was simply the inevitable result of the life of her

time. One can hardly be all that she had to be whether she wanted to

be it or not and at the same time fulfill all the functions of

motherhood. The daily labors of a large ranch such as the world

practically was at that time were of enormous proportions, and with

all due respect to Adam it has always been my profound belief that a

good ninety per cent. of them were performed by Eve. It was she who

had to look after the domestic details of the hour, day in and day

out, while he after the fashion of mankind, led the freer life of the

open. Indeed I have never found that in the matter of manual labor

Adam was in any wise noted. The naming of the animals was a purely

intellectual achievement, and while, of course, he was the provider

when it came to getting in the food supply, I have never observed that

any man yet created ever regarded a day on a trout stream with a fly

and a rod, or a chase through the forest after a venison steak, or a

partridge, as in any way even remotely resembling work. On the

contrary Adam lived the life of a Naturalist and a Nimrod, while Eve

faithfully did the chores. It was inevitable then that the children

when they first came along, should be allowed to grow wild, to

associate with their inferiors, and to become confirmed in habits that

were deplorable and reprehensible. I am entering upon no defense of

my Uncle Cain. I do not excuse his misbehavior in the least, but when

a censorious world holds up its hands in holy horror whenever he is

mentioned, and uses his name as a synonym for evil, I would merely beg

it to remember the lad's bringing up, and to ask itself whether under

similar conditions it would do much better itself. Particularly do I

ask that branch of human society, now growing rather larger than I

like to see it, who are themselves allowing their children to grow up,

not only removed but far away from all parental influences whatsoever,

if they realize that they will have only themselves to blame if they

add to the stock of unfortunates who bear the mark of Cain? Of course,

a woman who would rather play Bridge than rock her baby to sleep would

be a bad influence upon a budding soul at any time, and her child is

to be congratulated when its mother's engagement card is full from

Sunday to Sunday, but even a mother of that sort owes it to society to

see that her place is filled not by any old gorilla from the handiest

intelligence office that comes along as poor Eve was forced into

doing, but by some capable person in whom the love of motherhood rules

as strong as does the passion for the grand-slam in her own breast.

[Illustration: Cain's Inspiration]

But enough of this moralizing! I had not meant to preach a sermon, and

it is only because I see so many wistful little faces of motherless

youngsters around me day after day--Social Orphans, whose mothers have

not gone to Heaven, but to Mrs. Grundy's; children who with the

qualities of service in their souls are treading dangerously near to

the footsteps of the original scapegrace for lack of attention; that I

have been led into this garrulous homily. It must not be supposed,

either from what I have said that there was never any discipline in

the Home of Adam and Eve. Later on there came to be a lot of it, and I

am not sure that its excesses in later periods were not as evil in

their influence as its utter lack at a time when ten minutes with the

hair-brush would have done Cain more good than ten years in the county

jail.

To the world at large these two boys are interesting because of the

fact that they introduced humor into the world. Adam never had any,

and Eve, as we have seen, was rather too busy to joke, but not so with

the youngsters, who, doubtless from their constant association with

the monkeys bubbled over with a kind of fun that though necessarily

primitive, was quite appealing. It was Cain who invented that immortal

riddle, "When is a door not a door?" the true answer being, "when it

is a bird." This is as far as I have been able to discover the first

thing in the nature of a joke ever known on this planet, though

whether it was the one that made the original Hyena laugh I have not

been able to ascertain. It is a joke that has appeared in modified

form many times since. Even that illustrious pundit, Senator Chauncey

M. DeMagog uses it as his most effective peroration at this season's

public banquets. I heard him myself get it off at The Egyptian Society

Dinner last month, as well as at the Annual Banquet of The Sons and

Daughters of the Pre-Adamite Evolution, the month before, changing the

answer, however, to "when it's a jar"--which I personally do not

consider an improvement, for when a door becomes a jar I must confess

I cannot see. A jar, as I understand it, is a vessel, a receptacle, a

jug, a sort of demijohn, or decanter that people use to store up

water, or to keep the juice of the grape in, like a pitcher, or an

amphora; and how by any stretch of the imagination a door could become

such a thing is beyond my ken, although I must say that the jest when

told by the Senator in his own inimitable way, was received with

shouts of laughter every time he got it off. For my own part I think

that Cain's version is infinitely more humorous and instructive as

well, because a "door is not a door" when it is a "daw," which is,

indeed, as Cain's answer to the riddle claims it to be, a bird. It is,

of course, a great compliment to Cain that the Senator and a hundred

others I might name like him should go back to him for their humor,

but I think they would do better if they took his jests exactly as

they found them instead of trying to improve them to their

destruction.

I find also in our family records that it was Abel who first asked the

question, "Why is an elephant like an oyster? Because it cannot climb

a tree," a jest that similarly to Cain's riddle, possesses not only

true humor but is at the same time educational, as the best humor must

always be, in that it teaches the young certain indubitable facts in

the Science of Natural History, viz., that neither the pachyderm nor

the bivalve, in common with several other carnivorous botanical

specimens, is gifted similarly to the squirrel, the ant, or the

grizzly bear.

Mother Eve, who always took a naïve delight in the droll sayings of

her offspring, used to tell with great glee of Cain's persistent habit

of asking questions of his father, some of which used to tax all the

old gentleman's powers of invention to answer intelligently. One of

these that I recall most vividly was as follows:

"Say, Pa," said Cain, one Saturday afternoon, when the whole family

were off on a picnic together, "did you have any sisters?"

"No, my son," replied Adam, plucking a bottle of olives from a

neighboring tree, and placing them on the outspread table-cloth on the

grass.

"Well, did Ma have any sisters?" persisted Cain.

"No," said Adam. "Your mother had no sisters, either. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothin'," replied the lad with a puzzled expression coming over

his face as he scratched his back. "I was just wonderin' where the

Ants came from."

* * * * *

It was Abel on the other hand who asked his father why he had not

named the male ants uncles, a question that to this day has not been

satisfactorily answered. Indeed I have frequently found myself

regretting that there was nobody at hand to ask Adam these very

pertinent questions earlier in his life, and before it was too late

to instil in his mind the idea that a little more consistency would be

desirable in his selection of names for the creatures he was called

upon to christen. Zoölogy might have been a far simpler science in the

matter of nomenclature than it is now ever likely to become, had Adam

been surrounded at the beginning with inquiring minds like those of

Cain and Abel, not necessarily to dispute his conclusions or his

judgments, but to seek explanations. Why, for instance, should a

creature that is found chiefly on the Nile, and never under any

circumstances on the Rhine, be called a Rhinoceros? And why should a

Caribou be called a Caribou entirely irrespective of its sex? There

are Caribou of both sexes, when we might have had Caribou for one and

Billibou for the other, and yet Adam has feminized the whole Bou

family with no apparent thought about the matter at all. Then there

is the animal which he called the Bear. He is not bare at all--on the

contrary he wears the shaggiest coat of all the animals, except

possibly the Buffalo, who, by the way, is not buff, but a rather dirty

dull brownish black in color. The Panther does not wear pants, and the

Monkey far from suggesting the habits of a Monk is a roystering,

philanderous old rounder that would disgrace a heathen temple, much

less adorn a Monastery. And finally if there is anything lower than a

Hyena, or less coy than a Coyote, I don't know what it is.

There is considerable evidence in Mother Eve's Garden Book, in which

she jotted down now and then little notes of her daily life that most

of these points, or at least similar ones, were brought to Adam's

attention at one time or another by his sons, and not always in a way

that was pleasing to him. Indeed, as we read these notes we observe a

growing tendency on Adam's part to be irritated by the enquiries which

seem to have formed an inevitable part of the family conversation. At

random I select the following:

_August 3rd_, 5569. Cain spanked and put to bed without his supper for

asking his father why he had not called the male Kangaroo a

Kangarooster.

_September 5th_, 5567. Cain sentenced to the wood-pile for four hours

for enquiring of Adam why he called the Yak a Yak when everybody knew

he looked more like a Yap. Adam is getting very nervous under this

persistent questioning.

_January 4th_, 5565. Adam has just retired to the wood-shed with poor

Abel on what he termed a "whaling-expedition," to explain why he had

named the elephant of the sea a whale instead of a sealephant. I

judge from Abel's blubbering that his father is giving him an object

lesson in the place where it is most likely to impress itself forcibly

on his understanding, though I must say I think the child's idea a

rather good one, and I often wish my dear husband would not be so

sensitive on the subject of his possible mistakes.

_May 25th_, 5563. Adam has forbidden the children to ask any more

questions about the names of the animals, Cain having exasperated him

by asking how much a guinea was worth.

"About five dollars," said Adam.

"Gee!" cried Cain. "You must have got stung on the guinea-pigs, then.

They're dear at a dollar a dozen."

* * * * *

It may interest modern readers who seem to have created a demand for

what is known as the Mother-in-Law joke that this style of humor

found its origin in an early remark of Abel's, if his mother's Diary

is to be believed. A visitor once interrupted him in the midst of a

ball game that he was playing with Cain and a number of his Simian

friends, to ask him how his grandmother was.

"Never had one," replied Abel, with a grin.

"Poor boy," sympathized the visitor. "And don't you wish you had?"

"Yes," said Abel. "I think a Mother-in-Law around the house would have

done Pa good!"

I will close my remarks concerning these famous boys with a little

poem which their mother had clipped from an Egyptian paper and pasted

in her book. It seems to me to be a pretty accurate picture of two

very interesting figures in our family history.

I don't suppose that Cain and Abel

Were very mannerly at table.

From what I've read by those that knew 'em

They'd speak when none had spoken to 'em,

And in a manner unbefittin'

Upon their shoulders they'd be sittin',

And sundry dinosaurs be treating

With scraps the while themselves were eating.

I fear they smacked their lips while pickin'

The bones of tarpon and spring chicken,

And each the other would be hazin'

To see who got the final raisin.

The notion in my brain-pan lingers

They ate their flapjacks with their fingers--

Not that their mother fair assented,

But knives and forks were not invented.

When there was pie, I fear they grabbed it,

Unless their Pa'd already nabbed it;

And that in fashion most unmoral

O'er cakes and puddings they would quarrel.

I don't believe that either chapkin

E'er thought at lunch to fold his napkin,

And if one biscuit graced the platter

'Twas ever less than fighting matter,

Or if they'd beans--no doubt they had 'em--

They failed to snap a few at Adam.

I fear me as they ate their salade

They hummed some raw primeval ballad,

And when the Serpent came to dinner,

They made remarks about the sinner.

No doubt they criticised the cooking

And hooked the fruit when none was looking,

And when they'd soup--O my! O Deary!

The very notion makes me weary.

About these youngsters let's stop writing

And turn to subjects more inviting!

I have never been able to ascertain the authorship of this poem, but

if the poet ever sees this I hope he will be glad to know that I

heartily agree with Mother Eve's memorandum written underneath the

clipping in her book,

"I guess this scribe has had boys of his own!"

The Autobiography of Methuselah · 第 5 / 9 章