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The Book of the Damned
·
Charles Fort
203
The
datum
that,
just
at
present,
leads
me
to
accept
that
these
flints
were
made
by
beings
about
the
size
of
pickles,
is
a
point
brought
out
by
Prof.
Wilson
(Rept.
National
Museum,
1892-455):
Not
only
that
the
flints
are
tiny
but
that
the
chipping
upon
them
is
"minute."
Struggle
for
expression,
in
the
mind
of
a
19th-century-ite,
of
an
idea
that
did
not
belong
to
his
era:
In
Science
Gossip,
1896-36,
R.A.
Galty
says:
"So
fine
is
the
chipping
that
to
see
the
workmanship
a
magnifying
glass
is
necessary."
I
think
that
would
be
absolutely
convincing,
if
there
were
anything--absolutely
anything--either
that
tiny
beings,
from
pickle
to
cucumber-stature,
made
these
things,
or
that
ordinary
savages
made
them
under
magnifying
glasses.
The
idea
that
we
are
now
going
to
develop,
or
perpetrate,
is
rather
intensely
of
the
accursed,
or
the
advanced.
It's
a
lost
soul,
I
admit--or
boast--but
it
fits
in.
Or,
as
conventional
as
ever,
our
own
method
is
the
scientific
method
of
assimilating.
It
assimilates,
if
we
think
of
the
inhabitants
of
Elvera--
By
the
way,
I
forgot
to
tell
the
name
of
the
giant's
world:
Monstrator.
Spindle-shaped
world--about
100,000
miles
along
its
major
axis--more
details
to
be
published
later.
But
our
coming
inspiration
fits
in,
if
we
think
of
the
inhabitants
of
Elvera
as
having
only
visited
here:
having,
in
hordes
as
dense
as
clouds
of
bats,
come
here,
upon
hunting
excursions--for
mice,
I
should
say:
for
bees,
very
likely--or
most
likely
of
all,
or
inevitably,
to
convert
the
heathen
here--horrified
with
anyone
who
would
gorge
himself
with
more
than
a
bean
at
a
time;
fearful
for
the
souls
of
beings
who
would
guzzle
more
than
a
dewdrop
at
a
time--hordes
of
tiny
missionaries,
determined
that
right
should
prevail,
determining
right
by
their
own
minutenesses.
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