Not Quite So Stories;
How the Skunk got his Stink
A long time ago, O best beloved, when the world was new and fresh and clean, there lived, in the forests of a far away continent, a proud and beautiful Skunk.
His fur was as black as midnight and shinier than jet, all bar a fine double stripe that ran from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail which was whiter than snow. And his tail was a thing to behold - a fine bush of fur that he held high when he walked, so all the creatures of that far away forest could see what a fine creature he was.
I'm sorry to say, O best beloved, that the Skunk was a most vain and prideful fellow - he preened and he gleened, he flounced and he trounced, and he groomed and he bloomed, for he felt he was the most beautiful creature in all that far away forest, and wanted all the other animals to admire him.
It happens that in that far away forest when the world was new and fresh and clean, that the beasts of the ground and the air and the tree-tops all used to work together to keep their home new and fresh and clean.
So it was that one day, while Skunk was admiring his refection in a calm pool beside the river, that Beaver approached, and said,
"Beautiful Skunk, why don't you help me build my dam to keep the river running true and our forest new and fresh and clean?"
And the Skunk stared at the Beaver down his narrow, pointed proboscis and replied,
"Nay, Beaver, for my stripe, which is whiter than snow, would surely grow dull in the water."
So the Beaver went off alone to build his dam, muttering all the way.
Presently, the Chipmunk found the Skunk sate upon a log contemplating his own magnificence, and said,
"Magnificent Skunk, why don't you help me tidy up the forest floor by gathering the nuts, to keep our forest new and fresh and clean?"
But the Skunk stared at the Chipmunk with his shiny, gimlet eyes and replied,
"Nay, Chipmunk, for my paws, which are dainty and delicate, would surely get muddy from the earth."
So the Chipmunk scampered off, chittering angrily to himself.
Presently, the Bluebird found the Skunk parading regally atop a rock, and called,
"Regal Skunk, why don't you help me gather twigs to arrange tidily into a nest, to help keep our forest new and fresh and clean?"
But the Skunk stared up at the Bluebird with his tail all a-quiver and replied,
"Nay, Bluebird, for my tail, with fur that is finer than Angora wool, would surely become tangled in the briars."
So the Bluebird flapped away, whistling in dismay.
Now it so happened, O best beloved, that a Nymph lived in the pool by the river and the log and the rock, and she had heard all that had transpired between the Skunk and the Beaver and the Chipmunk and the Bluebird, and felt that such vanity and urbanity should not go unpunished. So she called upon her friend, the Dryad of the trees, and together they thought up a great and terrible Magic.
When it was ready, the Nymph and the Dryad approached the Skunk, who had returned to the contemplation of his magnificence while admiring his reflection in the pool, and they cried,
"Beautiful, magnificent, regal Skunk, why does thy vanity preclude thee from the maintenance of our recently acquired, unsullied and hygienic arboreal abode?" (As you can see, best beloved, these faeries were well educated, and had the fine 'cabulary to show for it.)
"My Ladies," the Skunk replied, with a bow and a flourish, "surely you must see that I am the newest, freshest and cleanest of all the creatures in this arboreal abode, as you so eloquently put it, and must stay that way? I cannot dull my stripe or muddy my paws or tangle my tail."
"Then we must teach you the error of your ways," the Nymph and the Dryad declared. "Your vanity and urbanity cannot take precedence over the needs of the rest of our community; we're afraid you must be taken down a peg or two."
And so saying, they Magicked up an ill-wind from the East which settled upon the Skunk's fur. He shook his tail from the chill of it, whereupon there arose the most unholy stench!
"There," said the Nymph, "You are fine of fur and delicate of foot, but to remind you not to be vain and urbane, you are also the proud owner of a most indelicate stink!"
Sure enough, whenever the Skunk shook his tail, there arose that awful stink; but I'm sorry to say, O best beloved, it did not cure the Skunk of his vanity or his urbanity. To this very day, if you do not treat the Skunk with the respect and deference to which he thinks he is entitled, you will be treated to a dose of his unholy, indelicate stink!