WEARINESS OF THE GRINDERS.—GROWING GREED
OF THE MONSTROUS FLEAS.—CONUNDRUMS.—THE
SANGUINOMETER.—PHARAOH PHRIQUE.—STRIKE OF THE
DOGS.—THEIR DEFEAT.—GROANING FOR A SAVIOR.
[Illustration]
NOW the dogs did grind and sweat eighteen hours a day at the Mill,
and the fleas around the Tank at the bottom had high old times, and
said that the lines had fallen unto them in pleasant places and they
had a goodly heritage. But they were very considerate of the dogs at
the Handle, and to reward them for their grinding, did smear a little
spoon quite liberally with the Blood in the Tank, and did send up the
spoon for them to lick, but with strict injunctions that they were to
regard the gift as something to be thankful for, in that Capital had
condescended to set up a Mill in their midst and had vouchsafed to
give them employment at the Handle thereof; and they added the further
injunction that they were not to stop turning the Handle, but to lick
the spoon as they turned.
But the dogs did frequently grow weary, and often one would fall down
fainting: whereupon the fleas ordered the chuckers-in to chuck him into
the hopper and run for another to take his place at the Handle, which
caused the other Handle turners to turn with double diligence, in the
deadly fear of being thrown in themselves. But the fleas who sat below
and drank the Blood grew bigger and bigger and bigger, until they were
all paunch; so big and fat and full did they become that their skins
glistened with very tightness; and had some one pricked them with a pin,
they would have exploded with a loud report. But the fuller and tighter
they grew the more savagely and ferociously hungry did they grow; and
when the dogs grew weary at the Handle and the Stream of Blood slowed
down slightly, they sent up fierce messages to them wanting to know why
the Satan they didn’t turn, and what in the Everlasting Profundo they
meant by it, and did they not know that they were cheating and robbing
their masters; and what were dogs coming to nowadays, anyway?
To all of which deep conundrums the dogs could find no answer but to
wake up and grind with hysteric fury; and the more furious grinding gave
a temporarily thicker stream of Blood below, which only whetted the
appetite of the fleas, so that the thicker Stream had then to be kept
up, otherwise the fleas did send up the savage conundrums to the dogs at
the Handle.
At last, however, the dogs became so faint with the unrequited turning
that the Stream very greatly slowed down, which very greatly quickened
up the anger of the Brethren, who not only sent up doubly savage
conundrums, but an announcement that they were losing terribly in their
income; that instead of being very full and very tight, they were
merely full, and were going rapidly down hill to bankruptcy and ruin;
and that they really, out of simple justice to themselves, could not
afford to smear the little spoon so liberally; but would be compelled in
future to smear it according to an instrument called a “Sliding Scale
Readjuster,”—a new Sanguinometer, the invention of Saint Andronicus
Carnivorous and Pharaoh Phrique, two very eminent Brethren—which, when
put under the Stream, showed with the utmost accuracy, when and how much
the allowance to the Handle turners must be _reduced_.
This marvelous and unique instrument had two faces, one of which was
towards the Brethren around the Tank and the other towards the grinders
at the Handle. On that facing the fleas was registered only the _rise_
of the stream, and on that facing the grinders were registered only the
_downward fluctuations of the rise_. The readings of this impartial
instrument, said the fleas, should determine the rise and fall of the
allowance to the Handle turners; whenever the reading showed a rise, the
wages should go _up_, but whenever the reading showed a fall the wages
should go _down_. But as the register of the rise was always invisible
to the dogs, and the fleas were scrupulously dumb as to what they
saw, the Sanguinometer never _showed_ a rise, but always the downward
fluctuations; therefore the licks at the spoon were always reduced. So
the dogs did groan by reason of the Sanguinometer.
Moreover, the fleas, having given ear unto the wise counsel of Pharaoh
Phrique and Saint Andronicus (who said, however, that he was a modest
flea and a flea of reputation, and did not want the honor of appearing
in the matter), issued an edict that henceforth each and every dog that
had the gracious privilege of being allowed to help turn the Handle
must, on entering the service, cut off two toes and throw them into the
hopper, as an initiation fee and an evidence of good faith towards the
company below, said two toes or their equivalent to be returned to the
depositor when he left the service at the Handle—if he ever did.
At which the dogs lifted up their voices and wept sore; but weeping did
not save them; for the fleas told the chuckers-in to tell the grinders
that there were crowds of hungry dogs around the corner, standing ready
and anxious to take their places at the Handle and willing to give three
toes for the privilege. Which was all true; for in spite of the awful
hunger of the dogs at the Handle, and their common fate of dropping down
faint and being thrown into the hopper, there were hundreds of pinched
and meagre dogs, who sat around on their haunches casting covetous and
envious glances at the workers, and hoping to see some fall; yea, so
eagerly anxious were they for a chance at the Handle, to earn a little
lick at the spoon, that when they saw one growing faint and ready to
fall, they would all rush forward and fight amongst themselves to be
first to be taken on by the chuckers-in; and it became the common
practice of almost everyone to creep up behind any fainting dog and
slyly pinch his tail or bite his leg, in order to make him faint quicker
and let go of the Handle.
So the grinding dogs, finding themselves helpless, did cut off two toes
and fling them into the hopper, and ground and groaned and wept, and got
their little lick at the smeared spoon, and fainted by scores, and were
mercilessly flung into the hopper. And the Brethren around the Tank grew
bigger and fuller and tighter every day; and as the Stream grew thicker
and thicker, they grew more querulous and angry at the pesky laziness of
good-for-nothing dogs that could not be encouraged to diligence, no, not
by “good wages” and a steady position at the Handle; and they sent up
more savage conundrums, wanting to know why the two Satans they didn’t
turn, and what in the two Everlasting Profundos they meant by robbing
and cheating their masters and driving them to bankruptcy?
To all of which the dogs at the Handle replied that they had reached
the limit of canine endurance, and would stop the turning of the Handle
unless the company of Brethren would raise their allowance of blood to
the standard of the old liberal smearing of the little spoon, and
abolish the requisition of two toes to the hopper. To which the fleas
angrily made reply that the dogs at the Handle might all go to the
bottom of the Everlastingist Profundo, for they would put other more
docile and appreciative dogs at the Handle.
[Illustration]
Whereupon the dogs struck, and the Handle came to rest, and the Blood
Stream stopped. But the fleas sat patiently around the Tank and
leisurely drank themselves full, and sent for the other hungry dogs that
anxiously sat around; and the other dogs did come, and were set upon
and worried and wounded by the original grinders. But the chuckers-in
and the police dogs did help the new dogs and slew divers of the first
Handle turners and finally routed them. Then did the first Handle
turners go meekly crawling on their bellies to the company of the
fleas, and humbly confess their sins and beg to be reinstated at the
Handle. But the company deigned not to speak unto them, but sent out
unto them Brother Pharaoh Phrique, who lifted up his nose high in the
air, and said unto them: “Well; what will ye?” And the dogs cast down
their eyes and hugged the dust with their bellies and answered: “That
thy bondservants may find favor in thy sight and be reinstated at the
Handle.” But Pharaoh’s heart was hardened like unto armor plate, and
he said: “Not so, ye wicked dogs; faithless and perverse generation of
dogs, despisers of our goodness and mercy; ye shall in no wise return
to your positions at the Handle, save and unless ye shall be content to
receive as wages no more Blood than can be carried upon the point of a
needle, and shall first contribute five toes to the hopper, and execute
a contract to fling into the Mill all the little bow-wows that shall
henceforth be born unto you.”
And all the dogs, with sighs and wailing and grievous lamentations, did
consent, and went and turned the Handle and groaned for a Savior.