the same picnic, so he concocted a plan. 'Pals,' he said, 'I tell you how we'll all get a finger in the pie. I'll hang on to the cow's tail, and one of you can stretch out and clamp on to my feet, and the next one on to his feet, and the next on to his, and so down the line, and we'll all get a lift like the tail of a kite.' Well, that's what they did—I mean so far as the start was concerned. The Wishing Cow made her spring-off and carried a string of about twelve husky Brahmins hanging on to her elevator. But, en route, one of the lower Brahmins, craving some conversation, called out to the tail-holder, 'How tall did you say the god Indra's crown was?' And the top chump, who must have been a little soft in the attic, answered, 'Bout this tall,' and let loose the cow's tail so as to spread his hands and show the height of the crown. Very naturally, the whole train of passengers came down a-kiting on their last journey, hit the soil, and got pancaked."
This tale made something of a hit.
"The Greek and Roman mythologies," continued the entertainer, "are chock-full of yarns about flying gods and air-prowling beasts. The
