The Drop of Water

Of course, everyone knows what a magnifying glass is—one of those round spectacles that make everything look many times bigger than it really is. When someone holds one to their eye and peers at a drop of water from the pond, they see thousands of tiny creatures that are otherwise invisible. And there they are, wriggling and hopping about as real as anything in the world.

It looks almost like a great plateful of spiders leaping around in a crowd. And how fierce they are! They tear at each other’s legs and arms and bodies, front and back, yet they remain merry and joyful in their own peculiar way.

Now, there was an old man whom everyone called Kribble-Krabble—that was indeed his name. He always wanted the very best of everything, and when he could not obtain it by ordinary means, he resorted to magic.

One day, Kribble-Krabble sat down with his magnifying glass and peered at a drop of water scooped from a puddle by the ditch. What a kribbling and krabbling there was! Thousands of tiny creatures leapt and tugged at each other, even devouring one another.

“That is horrible!” exclaimed Kribble-Krabble. “Can they not be persuaded to live in peace, so that each may mind his own business?”

He thought and thought, but nothing worked. Finally, he turned to magic. “I must give them color, so they may be seen more clearly,” he said, and carefully dropped something into the water. It looked like red wine, but it was no ordinary liquid—it was witches’ blood from the lobes of the ear, the finest kind, at ninepence a drop.

Suddenly, the little creatures turned pink all over. It looked like a whole town of naked wild men!

Just then, another old magician, who had no name—because having no name was the best thing—asked, “What have you there?”

Kribble-Krabble replied, “If you can guess what it is, I’ll give it to you as a present.”

The nameless magician peered through the magnifying glass. To his astonishment, it looked like a great city reflected there, full of naked people running about, pushing, pulling, biting, and tugging at each other. Those at the top were dragged down; those at the bottom struggled upward. One tiny bruise could spark a battle, and the creatures attacked one another mercilessly.

Among them, one sat quietly, wishing only for peace, but she, too, was pulled, tugged, and torn by the chaos.

“That’s funny!” said the nameless magician.

“Yes,” said Kribble-Krabble, “but can you guess what it is?”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” replied the other. “It’s Paris—or perhaps some other great city—they all look alike!”

Kribble-Krabble chuckled. “No, no! It is just a drop of puddle water!”

Moral: Even in the smallest things—like a drop of water—there exists an entire world of chaos and complexity, and sometimes, the grandest scenes are hiding in the tiniest places.