The Adventures of Jonathan Gullible - Bastiat Institute

Chapter 39 • Vultures, Beggars, Con Men, and Kings 239
“I’ve watched you both for some time now, especially Jonathan’s
harrowing trial at sea,” said the Bard. “You’re brave and clever,
young man, but easily fooled. Alisa is more insightful, more likely
to trust actions than words.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jonathan.
“To you, this land is all vultures. Hmph! If that was true, then
this would be a far better island than it is.” The bird raised its
ugly, naked head proudly. “You have come to an island of many
creatures – vultures, beggars, con men, and kings. But you don’t
recognize who is worthy because titles and words deceive you. You
have fallen for the oldest of tricks and hold evil in high esteem.”
Jonathan defended himself. “There’s no trick. Vultures, beggars,
and so forth are easy to understand. Where I come from, vultures
pick the bones of the dead. That’s disgusting!” Jonathan’s nose
wrinkled in emphasis. “Beggars are simple and innocent. Con men
are clever and funny – sort of mischievous.”
“As for kings and royalty,” added Jonathan quickly, his eyes
dancing with a glint of excitement, “well, I’ve never met any in
real life, but I’ve read that they live in beautiful palaces and wear
gorgeous clothes. Everyone wants to be like them. Kings and their
ministers rule the land and serve to protect all their subjects. That’s
no trick.”
“No trick?” repeated the Bard, amused. “Consider the vulture.
Of the four, the vulture is the only one of true nobility. Only the
vulture does anything worthwhile.”
The great bird stretched its scrawny neck again and glared at
Jonathan. “Whenever a mouse dies behind the barn, I clean up.
Whenever a horse dies in the fi eld, I clean up. Whenever a poor man
dies in the woods, I clean up. I get a meal and everyone is better off.
No one ever used a gun or a cage to get me to do my job. Do I get
any thanks? No. My services are considered dirty and foul. So the
‘ugly’ vulture must live with verbal abuse and no appreciation.”
“Then there are the beggars,” continued the condor. “They don’t
produce. They don’t help anyone, except themselves. But they do
no harm either. They keep themselves from dying in the woods, of
course. And it can be said that they provide a sense of well-being to
their benefactors. So they are tolerated.”