Fables
by Robert L. Stevenson

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Fables - Robert Louis Stevenson - 1901 Edition
Scanned and proofed by David Price
ccx074@coventry.ac.uk





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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 man?"

"And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. "Ah, you should 'a' heard
me putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and that lot, no
longer ago'n last chapter; you'd heard something then! You'd 'a'
seen what the Author thinks o' me! But come now, do you consider
yourself a virtuous chara'ter clean through?"