Oh! We Spin
Something, I Know, But It Is Very Gossamer, Thin And Strained, And
Even If It Does Not Snap Time Will At Last Dissolve It.
Indeed, there is a song on it which you should know, and which runs -
[Bar of music]
So my little human race, both you that have read this book and you
that have not, good-bye in charity. I loved you all as I wrote. Did
you all love me as much as I have loved you, by the black stone of
Rennes I should be rich by now. Indeed, indeed, I have loved you all!
You, the workers, all puffed up and dyspeptic and ready for the
asylums; and you, the good-for-nothing lazy drones; you, the strong
silent men, who have heads quite empty, like gourds; and you also, the
frivolous, useless men that chatter and gabble to no purpose all day
long. Even you, that, having begun to read this book, could get no
further than page 47, and especially you who have read it manfully in
spite of the flesh, I love you all, and give you here and now my
final, complete, full, absolving, and comfortable benediction.
To tell the truth, I have noticed one little fault about you. I will
not call it fatuous, inane, and exasperating vanity or self-
absorption; I will put it in the form of a parable. Sit you round
attentively and listen, dispersing yourselves all in order, and do not
crowd or jostle.
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