Just So Stories Book

How The Kipling Got His Reputation

Once upon a time, Best Beloved, when the world was middle-aged and good Queen Victoria sat on the throne, there was a Kipling. And even though he constantly had to carry around a White Man's Burden (an object, by the way, which he had invented himself, and very proud he was of it too), he was as happy as the day is long. And he would often stop for a moment, and sing a little song he'd written, which beganMamma Pajama rolled out of bed and ran to the po-lice stationand endedSeein' me and Sambo down by the Rudyard Maybe you know a song that's a bit like that, Best Beloved, and you're wondering why this one is different? But we'll get to that shortly.

So one day, the Kipling was carrying his White Man's Burden and singing his song, when, in a great flash, a Time Traveler appeared. The Kipling was amazed, for he had never seen any kind of DeLorean before, much less one capable of temporal displacement. And as soon as they had had the usual awkward conversation about which century am I in and so on and so forth (I am sure you know all about this, Best Beloved), the Kipling was of course eager to know what the wonderful future world was like. Could the Time Traveler tell him anything about it?

As it happened, the Time Traveler had a newspaper with him from the year 2009; and he showed the Kipling the front page, where, wonder of wonders, you could see a full-color daguerreotype of Queen Victoria III shaking hands with her dear friend, President John McCain of the United States of America. Behind them, there was a map of the world; and the Kipling was very pleased to see that most of it was a pretty pink, except for a piece on the left which was stars-and-stripes color. He was just about to express his appreciation, when the Time Traveler unfortunately raised his foot, and stepped on a butterfly that had landed next to him.

Now, Best Beloved, I need hardly tell you that if there is one thing a Time Traveler must never, ever, do, it is to step on a butterfly. Before their horrified eyes, everything changed. The Kipling looked round wildly: his White Man's Burden was gone!

"Where is my White Man's Burden?" he plaintively asked the Time Traveler.

"You mean your Aid to Developing Countries," said the Time Traveler in a new, nasty tone. "I don't know. But what you do have, in case you haven't noticed, is a Reputation."

And it was true! The Kipling suddenly had a horrible Reputation, which stuck to him; do what he would, he couldn't shake it off. He tried singing his song, thinking that might cheer him up, but it didn't come out the way it was supposed to. Finally, he looked again at the Time Traveler's newspaper, and could hardly believe what he saw.

"Where is Victoria III?" he whispered. "Who is this large Scotsman? And the person he's shaking hands with, the President of the United States, is an... an N-word!"

And he looked even more surprised, because he had thought he would say something rather different.

"I see you have discovered Political Correctness," said the Time Traveler in his new, nasty tone. "And, as for me, I have discovered that you are an F-word F-word."

In case you don't speak Politically Correct English, Best Beloved, I should say that those were two different F-words: the second one ended in "-ascist", and I'm afraid we don't have time to talk about the first one.

Before the Kipling could reply, the Time Traveler got back into his DeLorean, and disappeared with another flash. And try as he would, the poor Kipling could never get rid of his Reputation; and he thought it very unfair, because after all it had been the Time Traveler who had stepped on the butterfly. But life, sadly, is often like that.