The Cricketary Tales of Jeffrey Jawser
Table of Contents
Translator with Jeffrey
The Locusts on Migration
Migration: Page Two
Migration: Page Three
Migration: Page Four
The Poet's Introduction
Intro: Page Two
Intro: Page Three
Intro: Page Four
Intro: Page Five
Intro: Page Six
Intro: Page Seven
Intro: Page Eight
Intro: Page Nine
Intro: Page Ten
Intro: Page Eleven
Intro: Page Twelve
Intro: Page Thirteen
The Bison's Tale
Bison: Page Two
Bison: Page Three
Bison: Page Four
The Serpent's Tale
Serpent: Page Two
Serpent: Page Three
Serpent: Page Four
Serpent: Page Five
The Salmon's Tale
Salmon: Page Two
Salmon: Page Three
A Whale of a Tale
Whale: Page Two
Whale: Page Three
Whale: Page Four
Whale: Page Five
Whale: Page Six
Whale: Page Seven
Whale: Page Eight
Whale: Page Nine
The Hummingbird's Tale
Hummingbird: Page Two
Hummingbird: Page Three
Hummingbird: Page Four
Hummingbird: Page Five
Hummingbird: Page Six
The Tern's Tale
Tern: Page Two
Tern: Page Three
Tern: Page Four
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The Tern's Tale

Yes, the males did love the hummingbird's tale. And so now, dear readers, FIVE of our pilgrims have told their tales: the bison, serpent, salmon, whale, and hummingbird. And I strained every nerve to reduce all this effusion to mere scratches on paper. The hummingbird observed my furious scribbling and scrawling.

"If you wish to write a great epic poem such as Virgin's Aneedit," she called out to me, "perhaps you will need, like Virgin, to remain celibate - maybe even a bit misogynous! What say you, cricket?"

The hummingbird's question startled me. But I replied that I would rather enjoy one day and night with Pagoda than write the Killedid and the Odd Essay.

SUB SILENTIO now we moved through the woods, all with mouths open in awe at the hummingbird's tale. The earth itself seemed to hold its breath in wonder - not a blade of grass quivered. Yes, the sun stood still to smile on us: time stopped. Only the climactic point of sexual love can effect this incredible, inexpressible, this... RARA AVIS! Only that or a great work of art. Such was the hummingbird's tale.

What say you, cricket?

The sun stood still. The earth in stupor did not move. In the solar system all planets pulled up in their orbits. The galaxy froze motionless and the entire restless universe paused to gasp at the hummingbird's tale.

Only Thought seemed to proceed without cessation - boundless, eternal Thought. We all had our own. Ah, dear reader... Since I am not an omniscient narrator but only a most imperfect recorder, I cannot reveal to you the thoughts of all our pilgrims.

But as to my own, I confess the hummingbird's words had excited them. She had teased me about writing an epic! I responded that I'd rather play with Pagoda. But how did we play? I mean what did we do for pleasure of the cerebral sort? Why, we read epics! So then some creature has to write them - some darn animal! Why not a cricket? Especially now since I am so alone. Hmmm...

Drawing by Megan Lloyd

But we were ALL now alone, all hushed in our own thoughts. Suddenly out of silence a shriek: "Horse! Horse!" It was the tern. Did she catch sight of an ass or zebra approaching us? What horse was she bawling about?

"Hoarse," explained the tern, "was Virgin's fast friend. Virgin the reclusive bee did have at least one intimate companion, and this alter ego was an ant."

Hoarse the Ant