Thursday, March the 25th, 2004

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Burnt Maps

Mister Bim bought an atlas as a birthday gift for his daughter, who was tremendously fond of geography. Without opening the big fat book, Mister Bim asked the oddly-haired shop assistant to wrap it up in colourful and exciting paper and to tie a ribbon around it. The shop assistant did the wrapping with precision and care, but then got the ribbon entangled in his odd hair, and had to use a pair of scissors to free it. Now the ribbon was not long enough to girdle the atlas.

“I am most dreadfully dreadfully sorry,” said the shop assistant.

“Oh never you mind now,” said Mister Bim, “the wrapping paper is lovely all by itself.” The paper had a pattern of interlocking hollyhocks, delphiniums, and fire extinguishers, all red and green and gold and purple and yellow and blue.

Mister Bim's daughter, Clytemnestra, unwrapped the atlas on her birthday three days later. She beamed and gave her papa a kiss on his hairy cheek.

“Oh gosh what can I say thank you so much papa!” she said.

We learned in the very first sentence that Clytemnestra was terrifically fond of geography. That fondness had led her to become knowledgeable, too. So imagine her disappointment when, upon close inspection, she discovered that every single one of the maps in the atlas was inaccurate. The port of Split is not in Bolivia. The world's largest lake is not just a few miles south of Swanage. Swanage itself is not spelled Swange.

“I will take it back to that shop and complain,” said Mister Bim.

“No no, papa. Let us tear all the maps out of the book and make a fire with them. Let us create a conflagration like unto the very flames of Hell.”

And, children, do you know something? That is exactly what they did!

Source : The Idyllic Childhood of Clytemnestra Bim by Rufus Bim, as told to Dobson