A Diversity of Creatures, by 
Rudyard Kipling 
 
The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Diversity of Creatures, by Rudyard 
Kipling 
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with 
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or 
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included 
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net 
 
Title: A Diversity of Creatures 
Author: Rudyard Kipling 
Release Date: August 2, 2004 [eBook #13085] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A 
DIVERSITY OF CREATURES*** 
E-text prepared by Charles Aldarondo, Charlie Kirschner, and the 
Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team 
 
A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
By 
RUDYARD KIPLING 
1917 
 
PREFACE 
With two exceptions, the dates at the head of these stories show when 
they were published in magazine form. 'The Village that Voted the 
Earth was Flat,' and 'My Son's Wife' carry the dates when they were 
written. 
RUDYARD KIPLING. 
 
CONTENTS 
As Easy as ABC 
MacDonough's Song 
Friendly Brook 
The Land 
In the Same Boat 
'Helen all Alone' 
The Honours of War 
The Children 
The Dog Hervey 
The Comforters
The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat 
The Press 
In the Presence 
Jobson's Amen 
Regulus 
A Translation 
The Edge of the Evening 
Rebirth 
The Horse Marines 
The Legend of Mirth 
'My Son's Wife' 
The Floods 
The Fabulists 
The Vortex 
The Song of Seven Cities 
'Swept and Garnished' 
Mary Postgate 
The Beginnings 
 
A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
As Easy as A.B.C. 
(1912) 
The A.B.C., that semi-elected, semi-nominated body of a few score 
persons, controls the Planet. Transportation is Civilisation, our motto 
runs. Theoretically we do what we please, so long as we do not 
interfere with the traffic and all it implies. Practically, the A.B.C. 
confirms or annuls all international arrangements, and, to judge from 
its last report, finds our tolerant, humorous, lazy little Planet only too 
ready to shift the whole burden of public administration on its 
shoulders. 
'With the Night Mail[1].' 
[Footnote 1: Actions and Reactions.] 
Isn't it almost time that our Planet took some interest in the proceedings 
of the Aërial Board of Control? One knows that easy communications 
nowadays, and lack of privacy in the past, have killed all curiosity 
among mankind, but as the Board's Official Reporter I am bound to tell 
my tale. 
At 9.30 A.M., August 26, A.D. 2065, the Board, sitting in London, was 
informed by De Forest that the District of Northern Illinois had 
riotously cut itself out of all systems and would remain disconnected 
till the Board should take over and administer it direct. 
Every Northern Illinois freight and passenger tower was, he reported, 
out of action; all District main, local, and guiding lights had been 
extinguished; all General Communications were dumb, and through 
traffic had been diverted. No reason had been given, but he gathered 
unofficially from the Mayor of Chicago that the District complained of 
'crowd-making and invasion of privacy.' 
As a matter of fact, it is of no importance whether Northern Illinois stay 
in or out of planetary circuit; as a matter of policy, any complaint of
invasion of privacy needs immediate investigation, lest worse follow. 
By 9-45 A.M. De Forest, Dragomiroff (Russia), Takahira (Japan), and 
Pirolo (Italy) were empowered to visit Illinois and 'to take such steps as 
might be necessary for the resumption of traffic and all that that 
implies.' By 10 A.M. the Hall was empty, and the four Members and I 
were aboard what Pirolo insisted on calling 'my leetle godchild'--that is 
to say, the new Victor Pirolo. Our Planet prefers to know Victor Pirolo 
as a gentle, grey-haired enthusiast who spends his time near Foggia, 
inventing or creating new breeds of Spanish-Italian olive-trees; but 
there is another side to his nature--the manufacture of quaint inventions, 
of which the Victor Pirolo is, perhaps, not the least surprising. She and 
a few score sister-craft of the same type embody his latest ideas. But 
she is not comfortable. An A.B.C. boat does not take the air with the 
level-keeled lift of a liner, but shoots up rocket-fashion like the 
'aeroplane' of our ancestors, and makes her height at top-speed from the 
first. That is why I found myself sitting suddenly on the large lap of 
Eustace Arnott, who commands the A.B.C. Fleet. One knows vaguely 
that there is such a thing as a Fleet somewhere on the Planet, and that, 
theoretically, it exists for the purposes of what used to be known as 
'war.' Only a week before, while visiting a glacier sanatorium behind 
Gothaven, I had seen some squadrons making false auroras far to the 
north while they manoeuvred round the Pole; but, naturally, it had 
never occurred to me that the things could be used in earnest. 
Said Arnott to De Forest as I staggered to    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
