"What did you think about the eagle’s idea about a government and
electing a President?" the
fox asked.
“As I recall,” the weasel said, dryly, “the idea of electing a
President was your idea.”
“Ah, yes, so it was. Well, but the eagle started me thinking about
it, so I’m just giving credit
where credit is due. Anyway, you’d have to be pretty dumb not to see
that such a government
has a lot of potential for us all. Only—and as I think you might
understand—it’s not going to be
so easy as all that to elect a President. There are just too many
factions: too many species, too
many animosities. Why, did you hear the way those animals were
fighting about which Big
Animal has put them in this forest? I’m telling you, several times
I almost broke out laughing, it
was so ridiculous! Big Boars, Big Rats, Big Turtles! What
imbeciles! You know, I always knew
the other animals were a little slow upstairs, but I never realized
till today just how stupid they
really are. Anyway,” the fox continued, shrugging his shoulders,
“that’s not the reason why I
called you in here. What I really wanted to talk to you about was
the campaign for President.”
“I’m listening,” said the weasel politely.
“I’ll get right to the point. Are you weasels intending to put up a
candidate?”
“Well,” the weasel temporized, “that depends on various
circumstances within the weasel
community.”
The fox pulled back his upper lip and showed his tiny front teeth in
a smile. “‘Various
circumstances’! Oh, that’s good—very good—very cautious: spoken
like a true weasel! But you
know, you’re not talking to a rabbit or a crow right now: you’re
talking to a fox: and I know a snow
job when I hear one..."
THE POLITY OF BEASTS
The most politically incorrect book of its time.
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