The ancient Persian fable of "The Monkey and the Parrot."

Once upon a time, there lived in the same palace a monkey and a parrot.

And there were, between the two animals, eternal discussions about their respective merits.

“I,” said the monkey, “grimace like man. Like man, I gesticulate. My hind paws are legs and feet; those in front are arms ending in hands. At a distance, I could be mistaken for a man: a small man, but a man.”

“I,” said the parrot, “have never had the foolish pretension to pass for a man, but I possess his greatest gift, speech! I can declaim fine verses, and sing ineffable songs.”

“I can do pantomime,” retorted the monkey.

“Pantomime?” scoffed the parrot, shrugging his shoulders. “Pantomime, an inferior art, the last resort of a ham with laryngitis!”

“Inferior art!” cried the monkey. “I take it you haven’t read Mendès’s last column on pantomime?”

“No!” snapped the parrot.

In short, the monkey extolled the Gesture, the parrot the Word.

Which was superior, and closer to humanity, the Gesture or the Word? That was the question.

One day, the quarrel grew unusually heated, and our two animals came close to blows.

Fortunately, a scandal was averted, thanks to a clever remark by our monkey, who had the last word.

“You grimace, but I talk!” repeated the parrot for the thousandth time.

“You talk, you talk!” the monkey cried. “Well, you imbecile, what have I been doing the past hour, during this whole stupid argument?”

And for once the parrot did not open his beak.