There was a certain Heathen who knew not how benighted he was.
He knew naught of Honesty, of Virtue, of Charity, nor knew he of Modern
Civilization and the benefits thereof.
And the Heathen was contented in his ignorance. He was satisfied with
Enough and of the Standard Oil Company and its methods he wot not--at
least, if he wotted, it is not so reported of him.
Now unto this Heathen came a Modern Missionary, girt with Sword,
with Commercialism and Militarism in his coat pockets, with a Colt’s
revolver on his hip, and a bottle of Champagny Water in his grip, and
he lifted up his voice and spake unto the Heathen, saying:
“Harken, Behold, likewise lo, poor benighted Heathen. You are a Good
Thing, and you know it not; but I even I, the forerunner and jumper of
Peace and Goodwill, know it. I come to do you good. You need a whole
lot of saving and as the Prophet of Civilization, I come to do the job.
I bring you Peace, Virtue, and Honesty, and a lot of other things that
are handy to have in the house. Your Gods I will take away from you.
They will make nice bric-a-brac.” And immediately, that is to say, as
soon as the Heathen wasn’t looking, he smote him a great smote with the
sword, so that he died at Peace, took his wife to do chores about the
house and annexed his property.
Blessed are the meek.