Chapter 29
the world of the world's life little masterpieces of american wit and humor volume i edited by thomas lansing mason the five lives by edward rowland five mites of monads dwelt in a round drop that twinkled on a leaf by a pool in the sun to the naked eye they lived invisible specks for a world of whom the empty shell of a mustard seed had been a hollow sky one was a meditative monad called a sage and shrinking all his mind within he thought tradition handed down for hours and hours tells that our globe this quivering crystal world is slowly dying what if seconds hence when i am very old yon shimmering doom comes drawing down and down till all things end then with a wizened smirk he proudly felt no other mote of god had ever gained such giant grasp of universal truth one was a transcendental monad thin and long and slim of mind and thus he mused
o vast unfathomable monad souls made in the image o horse-frog croaks from the pool hark twas some god voicing his glorious thought in thunder music yea we hear their voice and we may guess their minds from ours their work some tastes they have like ours some tendency to wriggle about and munch a trace of scum he floated up on a pinpoint bubble of gas that burst pricked by the air and he was gone one was a barren-minded monad called a positivist and he knew positively there was no world beyond this certain drop prove me another let the dreamers dream o'er their faint gleams and noises from without and higher and lower life is life enough then swaggering half a hair's breadth hungrily he seized upon an atom of a bug and fed one was a tattered monad called a poet and with a shrill voice ecstatic thus he sang o little female monad's lips o little female monad's eyes ah the little little female female monad
the last was a strong-minded monadus who dashed amid the infusoria danced high and low and wildly spun and dove till the dizzy others held their breath to see but while they led their wondrous little lives aeonian moments had gone wheeling by the burning drop had shrunk with fearful speed a glistening film twas gone the leaf was dry the little ghost of an inaudible squeak was lost to the frog that goggled from his stone who at the huge slow tread of a thoughtful ox coming to drink stirred sideways flatly plunged launched backward twice and all the pool was still the
