The Rational Youth by Adam Acidophilus

A rational youth had the great misfortune to live in an isolated village with a very superstitious population. Wherever he tried to go and whatever he tried to do – he was thwarted by their absurdly traditional outlook.

"Oh no you don't," the villagers would cry. "Tis unlucky to plough in the morning!"

"Oh well, in that case . . . " he might suggest, "I'll go and milk the goat ."

"Oh no you won't!" they would cry. "Tis unlucky for a man with no brothers to form caprine associations!"

"I see," the youth would sigh. "And does anybody mind if, at least, I get out of bed?"

"Yes, we do," they would tell him. "To get out of bed is asking for trouble."

And so the youth would lie there as they daubed him with scented oils and sprinkled him with herbs, and chanted at him, and drummed, badly.

"Darn it," he would think. "Must my every move be frustrated by fear and ignorance? Must my every day be blighted by naff proverbs? Must my every thought be interrupted by unconvincing Cornish accents?"

"Arr, it muss'," the villagers would quip – for they could read his mind – "Tis lucky to frustrate moves and blight days by any method."

This unhappy situation persisted for many years, and however rational his suggestions, the youth was perpetually at odds with the people of his village. When he was hungry they fed him on insects; when he was weary they wrapped him in thorns, and when, eventually, he fell in love with his childhood sweetheart, they told him it was unlucky to marry in a horizontal position.

Furious at this most unwelcome of intrusions, the youth engaged a distinguished lawyer to settle the matter for good. But on the eve of the hearing, the youth was dismayed to discover that the lawyer was distinguished not in civil law or criminal law, but in folklore, and was as bad as the rest of the village put together.

"I shall argue your case before the Faerie Queen," the folk-lawyer told him. "And if that fails we'll try the pixies."

After many days at large he came to the open road, and at the very same time a travelling circus rounded the corner.

"At last!" he reflected, "my chance to commune with better minds – worldly people with a no-nonsense attitude and a practical disposition!"

The circus welcomed the rational youth and they journeyed for many miles, but when they came to pitch camp he made an annoying discovery. For the people of the circus – in spite of the chances they had had to broaden their minds – were as backward as the villagers that he had left behind.

"Tis unlucky to even refer to luck," the ringmaster explained, "except when explaining that it is unlucky to total strangers, obviously."

The youth was furious, and decided to enlighten the circus people with his reasoned and logical approach. But before he could contrive a scheme by which he might achieve this he was ordered to go and help the lion tamer.

"Now," said the lion tamer, "tell me young youth, what do you know about lions?"

"Only if you go into their cages," the lion tamer advised him, "and pull on their tails repeatedly."

"Away with your superstitious tosh!" he cried – entering the lion's cage. "And no more of this pagan wise-wordery!" he added – tugging at its tail.

Alas, before he could rethink his approach to this contentious area of philosophy, the rational youth was mauled to death. And the circus folk, taking this as an example of logical thinking, resolved that they would never have anything to do with it.