THE ARTICHOKE AND THE MUSKRAT

On the shore of a lake stood an artichoke with its green leaves

waving in the sun. Very proud of itself it was, and well satisfied

with the world. In the lake below lived a muskrat in his tepee,

and in the evening as the sun set he would come out upon the shore

and wander over the bank. One evening he came near the place where

the artichoke stood.

"Ho, friend," he said, "you seem rather proud of yourself. Who are

you?" "I am the artichoke," answered the other, "and I have many

handsome cousins. But who are you?"

"I am the muskrat, and I, too, belong to a large family. I live in

the water. I don't stand all day in one place like a stone."

"If I stand in one place all day," retorted the artichoke, "at

least I don't swim around in stagnant water, and build my lodge in

the mud."

"You are jealous of my fine fur," sneered the muskrat. "I may

build my lodge in the mud, but I always have a clean coat. But you

are half buried in the ground, and when men dig you up, you are

never clean."

"And your fine coat always smells of musk," jeered the artichoke.

"That is true," said the muskrat. "But men think well of me,

nevertheless. They trap me for the fine sinew in my tail; and

handsome young women bite off my tail with their white teeth and

make it into thread."

"That's nothing," laughed the artichoke. "Handsome young warriors,

painted and splendid with feathers, dig me up, brush me off with

their shapely hands and eat me without even taking the trouble to

wash me off."