Once upon a time there were 5,317,950 happy little voles, which frolicked in the sparkling green fields of their home country, Badgerland.

It was this utopia into which a beagle named Iggly meandered. He moseyed into Badgerland, feeling particularly depressed over the grayness of the fields around him, being as dogs are colorblind. He was griping and moaning about how life was so horrible when he came upon a pair of voles, who were dancing merrily in their field.

“Say, look at that old beagle,” one said, “he looks unhappy. Shall we invite him to be joyous with us?”

“Oh, indeed,” replied the other vole.

So the two voles, which were named Bahb and Tomas, pranced over to the Iggly to ask him to join in their gaiety.

“Excuse me, old beagle,” said Tomas.

“Bah, what do you want you little cretin?” responded Iggly.

Bahb and Tomas did not know how to react to such malignity. They were accustomed to other happy little voles that were always nice to each other.

“We simply wanted to know if you would enjoy prancing merrily with us in our field here,” said Bahb.

“No,” Iggly sternly replied. “I have better things to be doing than wasting my time with nitwit rodents.”

“Such as?” inquired Tomas.

“Like complaining about the current state of the world,” said Iggly.

The voles did not know how to take this comment either. The voles had never had to worry about the world outside of Badgerland. All that there was to life were endless emerald plains, and 5,317,948 other voles to cavort with.

“What is so horrible about the world?” asked Bahb. “Everything I see is wonderful.”

“Your mind has been clouded by the oppressors and their propaganda. I am truly enlightened and see the suffering inherent in all society, except for the one I have devised. It is a terrific system, where no one will ever go hungry again, where the common animal is not ruled by despotic overlords, where everyone will live in harmony with their brother beings; a utopia for every beast.”

Moved by the power of Iggly’s panegyric, the two voles gave their loyalty to Iggly, though they still didn’t understand him. As far as they knew, life was already perfect. But according to Iggly, it wasn’t, and that was good enough for them.

After many months of journeying, and persuading all 5,317,950 voles to join, Iggly finally decided to overthrow the government. Bahb, who had become Iggly’s most loyal and trusted lieutenant, had to explain that no such thing existed. Iggly was furious that despite all his work, there wouldn’t be a shred of violence. He settled on building Badgerland’s first city on the spot he stood, naming it ‘Igglyville’.

His first command, as Supreme Colleague, was that the creation of factories was to begin. “Build these things pronto, and then we shall commence the glorious plan to bring the rest of the world to our superior ways!”

Industries sprung up all over, and weapons of war were mass-produced by starving voles working 18 hours a day in in-voleian conditions. Many died in the factories, and many more perished due to the noxious gasses poured out of the smokestacks.

Once his equipment production was well underway, Iggly conscripted 1,000,000 voles into his Glorious Vole’s Army. They were given a gun and sent off to war against the neighboring land of Lemmingland, which was inhabited solely by Ferrets.

In just one battle, 645,574 voles died in an inferno of mortar fire and bombs. The Vole’s army was routed all the way back to Igglyville, which was the only place left where Iggly still reigned.

The voles, which were basically defeated, set out on a bold new plan. They built a ship to carry them away from the war, so that they could set up Iggly’s promised utopia somewhere very far away from the Ferrets. They toiled for many days in its creation, and were rewarded with a ship rivaled by none. The jib stretched extravagantly upwards, ascending 43.61 inches into the air, fluttering in the air like a magnificent banner.

Alas, voles are not known for their great intellect, and they had forgotten one key element. Igglyville was a landlocked city, and there was nowhere for the boat to sail.

But Iggly had one more trick up his sleeve. Safe inside his bunker, he released a deadly cloud of fungal spores into the city through vents built when the city was created, killing ferret and vole alike.

Bahb, the only vole to be allowed into Iggly’s private bunker, and the only one left alive for that matter, began to weep. “You have brought chaos and destruction to our pleasant land. How could you destroy what was once perfect in the name of a false perfection?” he asked.

Iggly thought about this for a second, then responded by saying, “I had nothing better to do.”

No one lived happily ever after.

The End

It’s funny how life can take a sudden turn and all at once you find yourself embroiled in events that will profoundly change the world. And you.

Such was the almost 50 years ago when I served as Stewards Boy aboard the H.M.S Beagle. We’d been at sea for almost 4 years and in all that time; I’d found no task more enjoyable than this one. Leaving the galley, I hurried into the passenger section of the foredeck.

In my eagerness to get there, I almost dropped Mr. Darwin’s breakfast just outside his door. Composing myself, I rapped on his door. “Breakfast, sir!”

“Yes, yes, come in Jim.” What would it be today? More carefully cut up cuttlefish like yesterday? Or more bugs? Perhaps he’d be sorting through the shells he’d picked up in Brazil. Quickly, I pushed my way through the door. To my disappointment, Mr. Darwin was at his desk reading. Seeing my dejected look, he gave a short bark of laughter. “Sorry, Jim. No beasties today. But it is a rather good book.”

Placing his morning fare on the desk, I replied “Interesting? A story book, sir?”

“No, Jim. A panegyric by Pliny the Younger for Trajan.” At my blank look, he smiled and continued, “Think of it as an old dead guy singing the praises of an even older dead guy. But enough. I was reading to pass the time. You see, Jim, I need to ask you a question.”

Straightening at this unexpected turn, I replied “Me sir? Of course, anything I can do to help.”

“Exactly so. Now Jim, I have been observing you and I recently felt compelled to speak to the Captain about having your duties changed.”

“Sir? I am sorry if I my work has been slipshod.” So now I will not even have this brief moment to look forward to each day.

“No Jim, you misapprehend me. I am asking if you would be interested in becoming my assistant? I find I am in need of someone with your qualities.”

Hardly believing my good fortune, I stammered out “That would be wonderful! Of course I would!” And with a sudden realization, my soaring spirits came crashing back to deck. “I don’t think - that is, I am not free to take on another position sir. I am a member of Royal Navy.”

“Ah, loyalty! A good quality, but not to fear, my boy. I had a… discussion with Captain Fitzroy and he has agreed that my need is quite pressing.”

“A discussion, sir? Like your discussion on slavery with the Captain?” I was quite sure that I did not need Mr. Darwin and the Captain having a similar screaming match over me.

“Heard that, did you? Yes, well, despite Fitzroy’s unenlightened opinions on the morality of slavery, he is a capable Captain and can be made to see reason. I have here a copy of his commendation. ‘Upon his acceptance, Robert James Davis is commended into the service of Mr. Charles Darwin for his term upon the H.M.S. Beagle. Mr. Davis is hereby relieved of all Steward duties with the exception of All-Hands and battle station. - Robert Fitzroy, Captain, H.M.S. Beagle ‘

Handing me the commendation, Darwin continued “And what is your reply now, Mr. Davis?”

“Oh yes, sir! It would be a great honor to serve you sir! But…” There was one problem, which was sure to crop up onboard. Even on a tightly run ship like the Beagle. “Do you know sir, who was assigned my previous duties?”

“Why so I do. I believe the Captain mentioned that Mr. Fuller would add the duties to his own.” At my crestfallen expression, Darwin continued “Would you be Mr. Fuller might not take kindly to increased duties? I’ll speak to the Captain, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no sir. I’m sure I can work it out.”

“Indeed. I’ve noticed you can be quite adaptable to changes, Jim. That’s one of the reasons I wrestled you away from FitzRoy.”

Bobbing my head in embarrassment at the compliment, I replied, “Sometimes it’s the only way to survive. If you aren’t the biggest, you need to find some other way stay alive.”

“Just so. If I remember right, Fuller is a Steward? With fungal scars? Here?” At which, Darwin spread his right hand across his right check.

“Yes, sir. The mark of the sea-witch, we call it.”

“And a bit of a cretin as I recall. While stowing my equipment, he tossed it about with hardly a care to the breakage he was causing. Didn’t like ‘the cut of his jib’, as you sailors say. Shan’t say I’m sorry he’ll be pulling extra duty.”

“As you say sir. How shall I help you today, Mr. Darwin?”

After a moments thought, Darwin answered “We arrive at Galapagos tomorrow Jim and from all accounts it is an inferno. Please see that we have adequate stores of water for our expedition tomorrow. As soon as we can, we will be going ashore muy pronto.”

“Sir?”

“Ah! I meant, ‘very quickly’. You’ll need to learn a bit of Spanish, Jim. I will be depending on you to help with the local population when we explore. This is going to be fun, Jim! A grand adventure! We have so many surprises ahead of us and so much to learn!”

It was indeed a grand adventure, as you all well know. Today we lay to rest that great man, that adventurous soul. My mentor, my teacher, my friend. And in the far future, when some person reads these humble words, they may be inclined to describe it as ‘some old dead guy singing the praise of an even older dead guy.’ But mine is not the only voice to sing Charles Darwin’s praise. Today the world sings with me.

October 10, 1895
My Dear G_____

It was kind of you to put me up last week at your house in Shropshire. I particularly enjoyed our evening conversations over a glass of port; I have not had such a pleasant time for many a long year. Following on from our discussions, I feel the need to share the following tale with you; one which I have not previously shared with anyone else.

A number of years ago, upon the sad, but not unexpected, passing away of my late father, Syms, whilst sorting through his meagre estate I chanced upon a most unusual document. Many times, when he was well into his cups, my father would make broad allusions to a close & brotherly link to that most famous son of Shrewsbury, the naturalist Charles Darwin. Often, indeed, at such times, my father would suggest that there was some strong bond linking them, but he never enlightened us, his children, as to the nature of this bond. We did, however, consider that it may have had something to do with my father’s early life at sea, although he never admitted to this.

But on reading the aforementioned manuscript, I could not but recall my father’s words. As I had no knowledge of the true provenance of the manuscript, & as I was at that time in a state that could best be described as impecunious, I determined to endeavour to raise a few pounds from its sale. To this end I copied it verbatim & took the copy to show my legal advisor at Thackery, Thackery & Hackett, Solicitors, of Sydney, in order to ascertain what value, if any, my inheritance might hold.

Upon my joyous return home from Sydney, I arrived to see all my hopes & dreams rising into the air in the smoke from the inferno that was my house. I was ruined anew, ere I had even been able to attain my fortune. All I had left in the world was the clothing in which I stood, & the few trifling items in my pockets.

In desperation I secured for myself passage on a ship to England, where I was fortunate in being offered a post tutoring the son of a gentleman in Stoke-on-Trent, & now here I sit in my cramped quarters with the only copy of a destroyed manuscript before me. For what little it may be worth, here for your amusement is the copy I made of the words that so nearly changed my life forever for the better.

Yr. dear & humble etc. friend
Michael Covington.

An Ode to the Ship that Bore the Origin of the Species
Or A Simple Panegyric on the Voyage of HMS Beagle in 1832
by Charles Robert Darwin

An Indian, named for a Dog, her reputation saved
She carried the men who Oceans braved
To distant lands to chronicle Life’s Changes
Of Beast & Fowl & Mountain Ranges.

Mains’l & Jib, Rope & Spar
Loyal as her namesake she travell’d afar
Returning with Creatures Fungal & Mighty
Carrying the Seed of a Theory to Blighty.

Cretin & Fool, Philosophers & Sages
All are but part of the Passage of Ages,
As Mankind ascends through Selection & Strife
To be the Favoured Race in the Struggle for Life.

________________________________________________

3/3/05
Jerry
That is a transcript of the letter sent to my great-something uncle, that I told you about the other day. Quite amusing, don’t you think? Who would think that a dried up old stick like Darwin could write poetry, even bad poetry like this? That is, of course, if it is not a hoax.

This random scrap of paper has been passed down through generation after generation of my family, but I don’t know why!

Anyway, let me know if you think there is any value in it and we can talk about what to do with it.

Looking forward to hearing from you
David E.

________________________________________________

9 April 2005
David
Get that paper to me PRONTO! I have found reference to it in old man Hacket’s diary, which mentions your great-uncle’s correspondent. He may have been the son of Darwin’s assistant on the Beagle and that clearly connects the poem to Darwin!! What you have there may be the only copy of a unique poem by Darwin! It could be worth 10 or 20,000 pounds! Send it to me!

Jerry

________________________________________________

April 14, 2005
Mr Jerry Carmichael
I regret to inform you that your recent letter to Mr David Egglestone cannot be delivered at this time. He is presently in hospital in a serious condition after being injured last night in a fire which destroyed his home.

Please accept my deepest sympathy.

If you have any questions don’t hesitate to call me.

Regards
P. McPherson
Solicitor

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: For clues to the references in the poem, go to Wikipedia HMS Beagle entry and in the letterSyms Covington's Journal

Man 1 (sweating): “Its hot in here.”

Man 2: “It always is Vic, working in this inferno helps keep unwanted visitors out.”

Man 1(Vic): Yeah, I imagine so. I need your brand of services badly enough to endure though, Tony.”

Man 2(Tony): “Yeah? You should enjoy it! Sweating is good for you, make you lose some weight. ‘Sides, ain’t no cretin gonna be stupid enough to bother us in here. We’s like two peas in a pod, you and me, we’re alone in here, Now, I’m a busy sorta guy, who told you that I sell them?”

Vic: “Sell what? I was told you only provide one kind of service here.”

Tony: “Yeah? And what old beagle told you that? I don’t do the tricks myself no more, almost got caught a few times, y’know. That reminds me, I need to search you, make sure you ain’t hidin nothing from me that might make our…arrangement… here sour. You understand. Up against the wall.

Vic: “Huh? Tony, its me, Victor Ceasar, we’ve only known each other for twenty years! I figured this would be just pronto! In and out kinda business, y‘know? Then later today Larry gets his. I didn’t know you’d go through all this. Look, maybe I had better come back some other time…”

Tony: Nonsense, this is business, and you can never be too sure. It’ll be easy enough for you, HEY BARBARA! COME IN HERE AND SEARCH MISTER CEASAR!
(she comes in from the other room)
Barb, honey, the usual treatment, ‘right?

Barb: “Mr. Ceasar? … This won’t take long, hon, just turn around and lean against the wall.”

Vic: “No thanks, I was just leaving.”

Barb: “I don’t think you understand sugar. You can not leave, or conduct any business with Mr. Tony Beisinger until you are properly checked for any remote listening devices. The more you struggle the longer this will take, but I get paid just for being here, so I can wait all day.

Vic: Fine… look, will this hurt?

Barb: “Not unless I want it to. Will you cooperate?”

Tony: “Of course he will, he said he needed my talents bad enough to endure.”

Vic: “Now wait just a minute! I was not ref- hey! Get your hand out of there!”

Barb: “Please. This will all be over in a moment.”

Vic: “Fine… (mumbling to self while eyeing Barbara’s ample chest)…it could be worse…”

Tony: “I s’pect you didn’t find nothing’?

Barb: “Nothing under those clothes but some fungal underwear Mr. Beisinger. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Tony: “Scotch, rocks for me, and whatever my buddy here wants. What do you want Vic, ole buddy?”

Vic: “Scotch is fine,” (not looking at her)

Tony: “Look, I’m sorry. You can’t never be too careful in this business. Now, what was it you needed me for? You said the guy’s name was Larry? I told you already Vic, this one aint a job for me. I can arrange someone else, if you want him plucked, but otherwise you gotta just settle for what I can do. I can destroy ‘em financially, and publicly. That’s it these days Vic, ol‘ buddy.”

Vic: “You’re kidding right?”

Tony: “Yeah? I’m afraid not. I’m getting old. I’m gonna retire soon, and every schmuck who ever did business with me will be at the party, it will be a huge panegyric. You like that word? I heard it off of my very first true customer. An English teacher no less. He had been saving all his money for this. Man, it was the first time I ever used a gun outside the military, and I swore every step of the way I’d get caught. I din’t, it was clean, still, the fear never truly escapes.

Vic: “Wow.” That’s um…. Interesting. That doesn’t explain why you can’t do this one though. For old times sake?”

(barb returns with the drinks)

Tony: “Thanks babe. Now, Vic, I told you, I don’t do it anymore. Look at me, I am old, and I am fat. What can I do? Now, there is a man, works out of an alleyway on Fifth and Main, who does it now. I’ll call him, tell him to expect you-”

Vic: “Tony! We’re old friends, I would never take this elsewhere.”

Tony: “That’s great and all, but I’ll tell you, eighteen years ago, back when I was still able to walk without struggling, back when I was thinner, and I used to operate that mechanical crane… back then I woulda done it. You remember that job at the construction where we met huh? Yeah?

Vic: “Yeah, I remember that, and it was TWENTY years ago, Tony. The day I met you, you got the jib of that thing caught under the first frame section. They would have canned you if it hadn’t been Bill Wellons who had put you in the job, if I recall.”

Tony: “Bill! That’s right, I remember him!. God, its been so long now.”

Vic: “Tell me about it...”