In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. A hot,
dry fly who said to no one in particular, "Gosh, if I go down three
inches, I will feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed."
There was a fish in the water thinking, "Gosh, if that fly goes down
three inches I can eat him."
There was a bear on the shore thinking, "Gosh, if that fly goes down
three inches, that fish will jump for the fly, and I will eat him."
It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake
preparing to eat a cheese sandwich. "Gosh," he thought, "if that fly
goes down three inches, and that fish leaps for it, that bear will
expose himself and grab for the fish. I'll shoot the bear and then have
a proper trophy."
You probably think this is enough activity for one bank of a lake, but
I can tell you there was more.
A wee mouse by the hunter's foot was thinking, "Gosh, if that fly goes
down three inches, and that fish jumps for that fly, and that bear
grabs for that fish, the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his
A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was
fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch
time, "Gosh, if that fly goes down three inches, and that fish jumps
for that fly, and that bear grabs for that fish, and that hunter shoots
that bear, and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich, then I
can have mouse for lunch."
The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the
cooling mist of the water,
The fish swallows the fly,
The bear grabs the fish,
The hunter shoots the bear,
The mouse grabs the cheese sandwich,
The cat jumps for the mouse,
The mouse ducks, and
The cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of the story is:
Whenever a fly goes down three inches,
Some pussy is probably in danger!