Uncivilized
Edmund Vance Cooke
(1866-1932)
An
ancient ape once upon a time,
Disliked
exceedingly to climb,
And
so he picked himself out a tree
And
said, ”Now this belongs to me.
I
have a hunch that monks are mutts
And
I can make them gather nuts
And
bring the bulk of them to me,
By
claiming title to this tree.”
He
took a green leaf and reed
And
wrote himself a title deed,
Proclaiming
pompously and slow:
“All
monkeys by these presents know”.
Next
morning when the monkeys came
To
gather nuts, he made his claim:
“All
monkeys climbing on this tree
Must
bring their gathered nuts to me,
Cracking
the same on equal shares;
The
meats are mine, the shells are theirs.”
“But
by what right?” they cried, amazed,
Thinking
the ape was surely crazed
By
this”, he answered: “if you’ll read
You’ll
find it is a title deed,
Made
in precise and formal shape
And
sworn before a fellow ape,
Exactly
on the legal plan
Used
by that wondrous creature, man,
In
London, Tokyo, New York,
Glengarry,
Kalamazoo and Cork.
Unless
my deed is recognized,
It
proves you quite uncivilized.”
“But”,
said one monkey, “You will agree
It
was not you who made this tree.”
“Nor”,
said the ape, serene and bland,
“Does
any owner make his land,
Yet
all of its hereditaments
Are
his and figure in the rents.”
The
puzzled monkeys sat about
They
could not make the question out.
Plainly,
by precedent and law,
The
ape’s procedure showed no flaw;
And
yet, no matter what he said:
The
stomach still denied the head.
Up
spoke one sprightly monkey then:
“Monkeys
are monkeys, men are men;
The
ape should try his legal capers
On
men who say respect his papers.
We
don’t know deeds; we do know nuts,
And
spite of ‘ifs’ and ‘ands’ and ‘buts’
We
know who gathers and unmeats ‘em,
By
monkey practice also eats ‘em.
So
tell the ape and all his flunkies
No
man tricks can be played on monkeys”
Thus,
apes still climb to get their food.
Since
monkeys’ minds are crass and crude
And
monkeys, all so ill-advised,
Still
eat their nuts, uncivilized.
