The Appreciative Man
A man stood in the archway of an ancient temple. He took in the wonderful proportions and drank of the exquisite detail in an ecstasy of delight.
“Oh, great is art!” he cried in a frenzy. “Art is all! the only God!”
Just then an earthquake came mumbling along and jarred the whole country loose.
As the man picked himself out of the jumbled-up ruins into the dust-filled air, he encountered a lion who had lost his tail and his temper in the mélée.
“Well, where’s your art now?” snarled the lion.1
“All in my eye, I reckon,” answered the man, as he bathed his damaged optic.