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The bear’s passage

A second, stranger passage

Rivers run downhill because they have never met me. I once talked the Danube into going the other way for an afternoon. Boats sailed up to Ulm without any effort. Then a fish complained to the mayor, and I let the old river go back to its usual job.

Tailors measure me with a ship's chain, as a matter of honor. One poor man in Bruges needed three weeks to go around my chest. He married along the way. His children helped him hold the tape, and the suit they made still fits me, provided I skip lunch.

Last of all the crew to desert me was the ship's monkey, and he took the wheel. He steered us past Java with great skill. He then demanded a captain's share of the rum. I gave him my hat, my rank, and a firm handshake, and I went below.

Holes in Swiss cheese are my doing. Long ago, each wheel came solid as a brick. I took my musket to a dairy in Bern and fired at them for sport. The farmer wept, until the buyers came. They paid double for the holes, and I have billed the canton ever since.

Last noon in Spain my shadow quit me. It said the pay was low and the.