"What are you ha-ha-ha-ing about? Do you think I want to make a point against gentlemen who carry cards? You're mistaken, though perhaps I too was wrong in the way I put it. 'I don't for a moment doubt,' said the Conservative candidate, 'that our good friend, Mr. Bartholomew, who I hope one day will blossom into a good Conservative'--between you and me, mates, that will be never."
"'I don't for a moment doubt that he is right about what he says of Coriolanus and the application of it. I don't remember the lines myself, but I will take them from him, and I will give him an answer in an anecdote. There was a serpent once, a regulation serpent, a twining, slimy, creeping, crawling reptile, with head and tail, and all other necessary parts. Now, Mr. Bartholomew knows that it is a law of nature for serpents that in going through life the head goes first. I don't know exactly how old the serpent was when its tail ranged itself upon what I may call the opposition side. It said to the head: "Look here, I ain't going to be dragged about in this manner all day long, and all night long, just where you like to take me. I won't stand it. It's my _turn_ for an innings; fair play is fair play." All the other parts of the serpent joined in the argument, and the tail was so noisy and blustering that it carried along with it every bit of the serpent but the head. Now, it unfortunately happened,' said the Conservative candidate, 'that this particular head of this particular serpent was weak-minded; anyhow, it was foolish enough to say: "Put it to the vote, and I'll stand by it. You shall decide who goes first, the tail or me." It was put to the vote, and it was decided by a large majority that the tail was right, and that it ought to have an innings. "Very well," says the head, I resign." Then the tail, crying, "Come along," took command. But, my friends,' said the Conservative candidate, 'you don't need to be told--though perhaps it will enlighten Mr. Bartholomew--that the eyes of a serpent's body are in its head, and not in its tail, and that as the tail dragged its way along it couldn't see where it was going. It got into a prickly hedge, and when the other portions of the body felt the sting and the pain they cried out: "What are you about?" "Oh, that's nothing," answered the tail, working its way out of the prickly hedge, I am new to the business, that's all; you must put up with a mistake or two--that's only fair, you know." "Yes, yes," said the other parts of the body; "go on, go on." He did, and came to a part of the forest where there was a smouldering fire. Straight into this fire crept the tail, and, maddened with pain, crept farther into it, hoping to escape, and in less than no time the tail and the other rebellious parts of the body were burned to ashes. The head alone remained.'"