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And because in that very day Pantagruel was born, his father gave him that name; for Panta in Greek is as much to say as all, and Gruel in the Hagarene language doth signify thirsty, inferring hereby that at his birth the whole world was a-dry and thirsty, as likewise foreseeing that he would be some day supreme lord and sovereign of the thirsty Ethrappels, which was shown to him at that very same hour by a more evident sign.
But suddenly there came a sharp report and Panta Loon instantly disappeared, to the great astonishment of the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Woot the Wanderer, who saw on the spot where the big fellow had stood a little heap of flabby, wrinkled skin that looked like a collapsed rubber balloon. "There!" exclaimed the King; "I expected that would happen.
Some of the Loons had wheeled a big machine in front of the throne and now took Panta's skin and began to pump air into it. Slowly it swelled out until the King cried "Stop!" "No, no!" yelled Panta, "I'm not big enough yet." "You're as big as you're going to be," declared the King. "Before you exploded you were bigger than the rest of us, and that caused you to be proud and overbearing.
Herein is involved the whole problem of the origin of evil, the evil of sin no less than the evil of pain, for if God does not suffer, He causes suffering; and if His life, since God lives, is not a process of realizing in Himself a total consciousness which is continually becoming fuller that is to say, which is continually becoming more and more God it is a process of drawing all things towards Himself, of imparting Himself to all, of constraining the consciousness of each part to enter into the consciousness of the All, which is He Himself, until at last He comes to be all in all panta en paot, according to the expression of St.
Now you're a little smaller than the rest, and you will last longer and be more humble." "Pump me up pump me up!" wailed Panta. "If you don't you'll break my heart." "If we do we'll break your skin," replied the King. So the Loons stopped pumping air into Panta, and pushed him away from the pump.
At the very time that Sue was tossing and staring at her figures, the policeman and belated citizens passing along under his window might have heard, if they had stood still, strange syllables mumbled with fervour within words that had for Jude an indescribable enchantment: inexplicable sounds something like these: "All hemin heis Theos ho Pater, ex hou ta panta, kai hemeis eis auton:"
Till the sounds rolled with reverent loudness, as a book was heard to close: "Kai heis Kurios Iesous Christos, di hou ta panta kai hemeis di autou!" He was a handy man at his trade, an all-round man, as artizans in country-towns are apt to be.
Now you're a little smaller than the rest, and you will last longer and be more humble." "Pump me up pump me up!" wailed Panta "If you don't you'll break my heart." "If we do we'll break your skin," replied the King. So the Loons stopped pumping air into Panta, and pushed him away from the pump.
Enough accidents happen to us poor Loons as it is, and my advice is to condemn and perforate 'em as quickly as possible." "Keep your advice to yourself," said the monarch, in a peeved tone. "Who's King here, anyhow? You or Me?" "We made you our King because you have less common sense than the rest of us," answered Panta Loon, indignantly.
"All right," grumbled the King. "Fetch Til to mend him." One or two ran away and presently returned, followed by a lady Loon wearing huge, puffed-up rubber skirts. Also she had a purple feather fastened to a wart on the top of her head, and around her waist was a sash of fibre-like vines, dried and tough, that looked like strings. "Get to work, Til," commanded King Bal. "Panta has just exploded."
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