A Fable

by Mark Twain

Once upon a time an artist who had painted a small and very beautiful picture placed it so that he could see it in the mirror. He said, “This doubles the distance and softens it, and it is twice as lovely as it was before.”

The animals out in the woods heard of this through the housecat, who was greatly admired by them because he was so learned, and so refined and civilized, and so polite and high-bred, and could tell them so much which they didn't know before, and were not certain about afterward. They were much excited about this new piece of gossip, and they asked questions, so as to get at a full understanding of it. They asked what a picture was, and the cat explained.

“It is a flat thing,” he said; “wonderfully flat, marvelously flat, enchantingly flat and elegant. And, oh, so beautiful !”

That excited them almost to a frenzy, and they said they would give the world to see it. Then the bear asked:

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Question
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"Why don't we just go to the artist's house and see the picture for ourselves? Why bother with mirrors and reflections?"

The cat, who was not very brave, and who hated to go out in the woods where dangers were, shook his head and said:

“It would not do. The artist is so ill-natured that he wouldn't allow it for a moment. He keeps it under lock and key. When he goes out, he locks up all his property, except the mirror, and then he would be in a dreadful rage if he found any one had been in there and seen the picture. He is as much as forty times as big as I am, and more savage than a tiger—fiercer, too. And he has twelve legs, and is so bowlegged that his knees point outward, and he has 35 teeth, and they are all double, and as sharp as razors. Oh, no, we mustn't go there.”

Then they all agreed that it would not be safe to go near the artist's house, and they promised one another that they would not try to see the picture. And they were all so frightened that they didn't whisper a word to one another about the picture for a whole week afterwards.

Then, if you will believe me, on the eighth day of the week that picture walked out of its frame. Yes, the picture turned into a live creature and walked right away. The first thing the artist noticed, when he came back, was that his picture was missing.

He was like a madman, and he rushed to the mirror and looked, but there was the picture still. He turned as white as a sheet, and after a while he whispered to himself, “I'll catch you. You can't fool me; I'll catch you yet.”

And with that he threw himself out of the window; he broke his neck.

The cat was delighted at that, and he laughed and said to himself:

“Well, what did I tell you? That old artist had no business to be doing things he didn't understand—no business at all. Go to work, said I to him, and leave the artistic side of things to the artists.”

And the cat enjoyed himself, and he laughed, and he said to himself:

“Ah, it's a sweet life, and I am getting on so much now.”

But, at that moment, the picture walked into the woods, and the animals, as they saw it, said:

“Well, who is this? And what is this piece of art? And how do you do, Mr. Artist?”

And the picture said, “I am your master.”

The animals were amazed, and scarcely knew what to make of it. But one and all stood up on their hind legs, and they went up to it and they walked round it, and they looked at it. And, as they looked at it, they grew larger and their fur grew thicker and their teeth grew longer, and their claws grew longer and their tails grew longer and their ears grew longer and their legs grew longer, and as they looked at it they grew fiercer and they grew cleverer and they grew bolder and they grew more skillful, and they grew more cunning and they grew sharper and they grew wiser and they grew, and they grew, and they grew.