A merchant of Cairo gave a grand feast. In the midst of the revelry,
the great doors of the dining-hall were pushed open from the outside,
and the guests were surprised and grieved by the advent of a crocodile
of a tun's girth, and as long as the moral law.
"Thought I 'd look in," said he, simply, but not without a certain
grave dignity.
"But," cried the host, from the top of the table, "I did not invite
any saurians."
"No--I know yer didn't; it's the old thing, it is: never no wacancies
for saurians--saurians should orter keep theirselves _to_
theirselves--no saurians need apply. I got it all by 'eart, I tell
yer. But don't give yerself no distress; I didn't come to beg; thank
'eaven I ain't drove to that yet--leastwise I ain't done it. But I
thought as 'ow yer'd need a dish to throw slops and broken wittles in
it; which I fetched along this 'ere."
And the willing creature lifted off the cover by erecting the upper
half of his head till the snout of him smote the ceiling.
Open servitude is better than covert begging.