“Well, it’s a mighty good furnace,” observed Munchausen.  “You don’t have to put coal on the modern hat.”

“Perhaps,” interposed Thackeray, “the ancients wore their hats on their tails.”

“Well, I have a totally different theory,” said Johnson.

“You always did have,” observed Munchausen.

“Very likely,” said Johnson.  “To be commonplace never was my ambition.”

“What is your theory?” queried Livingstone.

“Well—­I don’t know,” said Johnson, “if it be worth expressing.”

“It may be worth sending by freight,” interrupted Thackeray.  “Let us have it.”

“Well, I believe,” said Johnson—­“I believe that Adam was a monkey.”

“He behaved like one,” ejaculated Thackeray.

“I believe that the forbidden tree was a tender one, and therefore the only one upon which Adam was forbidden to swing by his tail,” said Johnson.

“Clear enough—­so far,” said Munchausen.

“But that the possession of tails by Adam and Eve entailed a love of swinging thereby, and that they could not resist the temptation to swing from every limb in Eden, and that therefore, while Adam was off swinging on other trees, Eve took a swing on the forbidden tree; that Adam, returning, caught her in the act, and immediately gave way himself and swung,” said Johnson.

“Then you eliminate the serpent?” queried Darwin.

“Not a bit of it,” Johnson answered.  “The serpent was the tail.  Look at most snakes to-day.  What are they but unattached tails?”

“They do look it,” said Darwin, thoughtfully.

“Why, it’s clear as day,” said Johnson.  “As punishment Adam and Eve lost their tails, and the tail itself was compelled to work for a living and do its own walking.”

“I never thought of that,” said Darwin.  “It seems reasonable.”

“It is reasonable,” said Johnson.

“And the snakes of the present day?” queried Thackeray.

“I believe to be the missing tails of men,” said Johnson.  “Somewhere in the world is a tail for every man and woman and child.  Where one’s tail is no one can ever say, but that it exists simultaneously with its owner I believe.  The abhorrence man has for snakes is directly attributable to his abhorrence for all things which have deprived him of something that is good.  If Adam’s tail had not tempted him to swing on the forbidden tree, we should all of us have been able through life to relax from business cares after the manner of the monkey, who is happy from morning until night.”

“Well, I can’t see that it does us any good to sit here and discuss this matter,” said Doctor Livingstone.  “We can’t reach any conclusion.  The only way to settle the matter, it seems to me, is to go directly to Adam, who is a member of this club, and ask him how it was.”

“That’s a great idea,” said Thackeray, scornfully.  “You’d look well going up to a man and saying, ’Excuse me, sir, but—­ah—­were you ever a monkey?’”