Fables

I. - THE PERSONS OF THE TALE.

AFTER the 32nd chapter of TREASURE ISLAND, two of the puppets
strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and
met in an open place not far from the story.

"Good-morning, Cap'n," said the first, with a man-o'-war salute,
and a beaming countenance.

"Ah, Silver!" grunted the other. "You're in a bad way, Silver."

"Now, Cap'n Smollett," remonstrated Silver, "dooty is dooty, as I
knows, and none better; but we're off dooty now; and I can't see no
call to keep up the morality business."

"You're a damned rogue, my man," said the Captain.

"Come, come, Cap'n, be just," returned the other. "There's no call
to be angry with me in earnest. I'm on'y a chara'ter in a sea
story. I don't really exist."

"Well, I don't really exist either," says the Captain, "which seems
to meet that."

"I wouldn't set no limits to what a virtuous chara'ter might
consider argument," responded Silver. "But I'm the villain of this
tale, I am; and speaking as one sea-faring man to another, what I
want to know is, what's the odds?"

"Were you never taught your catechism?" said the Captain. "Don't
you know there's such a thing as an Author?"

"Such a thing as a Author?" returned John, derisively. "And who
better'n me? And the p'int is, if the Author made you, he made
Long John, and he made Hands, and Pew, and George Merry - not that
George is up to much, for he's little more'n a name; and he made
Flint, what there is of him; and he made this here mutiny, you keep
such a work about; and he had Tom Redruth shot; and - well, if
that's a Author, give me Pew!"

"Don't you believe in a future state?" said Smollett. "Do you
think there's nothing but the present story-paper?"

"I don't rightly know for that," said Silver; "and I don't see what
it's got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this: if there is
sich a thing as a Author, I'm his favourite chara'ter. He does me
fathoms better'n he does you - fathoms, he does. And he likes
doing me. He keeps me on deck mostly all the time, crutch and all;
and he leaves you measling in the hold, where nobody can't see you,
nor wants to, and you may lay to that! If there is a Author, by
thunder, but he's on my side, and you may lay to it!"

"I see he's giving you a long rope," said the Captain. "But that
can't change a man's convictions. I know the Author respects me; I
feel it in my bones; when you and I had that talk at the blockhouse
door, who do you think he was for, my