The Fool

The two philosophers sat there on the bank, discussing the value of the river. They thought of the many ways it could be valued, and they created many pretty theories. They were very pleased with themselves, and they returned often to the river bank, to talk.

Sometimes they would see the the children playing in the river. Sometimes a boat would pass by. Fishermen pulled their catch onto the bank, and birds flitted over the surface of the water in the evening. They saw these things, and they spoke of them.

The river was a wonderful thing, they agreed. They could talk about it for hours on end. What they never did, though, was to swim in it, fish in it, or use it in any way.

A Fool's Meal

Thirty years passed, and the philosophers were there on the bank, philosophizing. They had even created an elaborate theory of the meaning of the river, and they debated the finer points. Then the fool invited himself into their midst, sitting with them and smiling. They ignored him.

The fool listened for a while, and then he took a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket. As they watched, he wrote the word "food" on the slip of paper, and held it up with a smile. He then put it into his mouth and began to chew it up, rubbing his stomach contentedly, and apparently enjoying his meal. He could only laugh at their questioning eyes, and he left the philosophers to pick flowers along the river.

One of philosophers turned to the other and said, " What a strange man!" The other agreed. Vaguely disturbed by the incident, they nevertheless resumed their previous discussion, having learned nothing.

(The End)