But the Elephant said: "It is no mere empty noise, Friend Mouse-deer; I have got into a dreadful scrape." "What sort of a scrape?" inquired the Mouse-deer. "I made a wager with Friend Tiger about shaking down a Monkey, and he beat me." "What was the stake?" asked the Mouse-deer. "The stake was that Friend Tiger might eat me if Friend Tiger frightened it down; and if I frightened it down, I might eat Friend Tiger. It fell to Friend Tiger, and now Friend Tiger wants to eat me. And my reason for not eating or sleeping any more is that I have got only just seven days' respite to go home and visit my wife and children and to make my will." Then the Mouse-deer said: "If it came to Friend Tiger's eating you, I should feel exceedingly sorrowful, exceedingly distressed; but things being only as you say, I feel neither." "If you will assist me," said the Elephant, "I will become your slave, and my descendants shall be your slaves forever." "Very well, it that is the case, I will assist you," said the Mouse-deer. "Go and look for a jar full of molasses." Friend Elephant promised to do so, and went to look for it at the house of a maker of palm-wine. The owner of the house fled for his life, and the jar fell into Friend Elephant's possession, who bore it back to the Mouse-deer.

Then Friend Mouse-deer said, "When does your promise expire?" and Friend Elephant replied, "To-morrow." So when next morning arrived they started, and the Mouse-deer said, "Now pour the molasses over your back and let it spread and spread and run down your legs." Friend Elephant did as he was ordered. Friend Mouse-deer then instructed the Elephant as follows: "As soon as I begin to lick up the molasses on your back, bellow as loud as you can and make believe to be hurt, and writhe and wriggle this way and that."

And presently Friend Mouse-deer commenced to lick hard, and Friend Elephant writhed and wriggled and made believe to be hurt, and made a prodigious noise of trumpeting. In this way they proceeded and Friend Mouse-deer got up and sat astride upon Friend Elephant's back. And the Elephant trumpeted and trumpeted all the way till they met with Friend Tiger. At this Friend Mouse-deer exclaimed, "A single Elephant is very short commons; if I could only catch that big and fat old Tiger there, it would be just enough to satisfy my hunger."

Now when Friend Tiger heard these words of the Mouse-deer, he said to himself, "So I suppose if you catch me, you'll eat me into the bargain, will you?" And Friend Tiger stayed not a moment longer, but fled for his life, fetching very lofty bounds.

And soon he met with the Black Ape, and Friend Ape asked, "Why running so hard, Friend Tiger? Why so much noise, and why, just when the Rains are upon us, too, do you go fetching such lofty bounds?" Friend Tiger replied, "What do you mean by 'so much noise'? What was the Thing that was got upon Friend Elephant's back, that had caught Friend Elephant and was devouring him so that he went writhing and wriggling for the pain of it, and the blood went streaming down in floods? Moreover the Thing that was got on Friend Elephant's back said, to my hearing, that a single Elephant was very short commons: but if It could catch a fat old Tiger like myself that would be just enough to satisfy Its hunger." Friend Ape said, "What was that Thing, Friend Tiger?" "I don't know," said the Tiger. "Ah," mused the Ape, "I wonder if it could be Friend Mouse-deer!" "Certainly not," said the Tiger; "why, how in the world could Friend Mouse-deer swallow Me? To say nothing of his not being used to meat food." "Come and let us go back again," said the Ape.

Then they went back again to find the Elephant, and first the Ape went the faster, and then the Tiger went the faster, and then the Ape got in front again. But Friend Mouse-deer sitting on Friend Elephant's back saw them coming and shouted. "Hullo, Father Ape," said he, "this is a dog's trick indeed; you promised to bring me two tigers and you only bring me one. I refuse to accept it, Father Ape."

Now when Friend Tiger heard this, he ran off at first as fast as he could, but presently he slackened his pace and said, "It is too bad of you, Friend Ape, to try to cozen me in order to pay your own debts. For shame, Father Ape! It was only through good luck that he refused to accept me; if he had accepted, I should have been dead and done with. So now, if you come down to the ground, you shall die the death yourself, just for your trying to cheat me."

Thus the Tiger and the Ape were set at enmity, and to this day the Tiger is very wroth with the Ape for trying to cheat him. And here the story ends.



MOORISH FABLES

"While watching man in all his phases, And seeing that, in many cases, He acts just like the brute creation— I've thought the lord of all these races Of no less failings showed the traces Than do his lieges in relation."

MOORISH FABLES

The Wagtail and the Jackal

At a time when the animals spoke, a Wagtail laid her eggs on the ground. The little ones grew up. A Jackal and a Fox came to them. The Jackal said to the Fox:

"Swear to me that the Wagtail owes me a pound of butter."

The Fox swore to it. The Bird began to weep. A Greyhound came to her and asked her what was the matter. She answered him:

"The Fox has calumniated me."

"Well," said the Hound, "put me in this sack of skin."

She put him in the sack. "Tie up the top well," said the Hound. When the Jackal returned she said to him,

"Come and measure out the butter."

The Jackal advanced and unfastened the sack. He saw the Hound, who stretched out his paws and said to the Fox,

"I am ill; come and measure, Fox."

The Fox approached. The Hound seized him. The Jackal said:

"Remember your false testimony."



The Wren

A Wren had built its nest on the side of a road. When the eggs were hatched, a Camel passed that way. The little Wrens saw it and said to their father when he returned from the fields:

"O papa, a gigantic animal passed by."

The Wren stretched out his foot. "As big as this, my children?"

"O papa, much bigger."

He stretched out his foot and his wing. "As big as this?"

"O papa, much bigger."

Finally he stretched out fully his feet and legs.

"As big as this then?"

"Much bigger."

"That is a lie; there is no animal bigger than I am."

"Well, wait," said the little ones, "and you will see."

The Camel came back while browsing the grass of the roadside.

The Wren stretched himself out near the nest. The Camel seized the bird, which passed through its teeth safe and sound.

"Truly," he said to them, "the Camel is a gigantic animal, but I am not ashamed of myself."

On the earth it generally happens that the vain are as if they did not exist; but sooner or later a rock falls and crushes them.



Mule, Jackal, and Lion

The Mule, the Jackal, and the Lion went in company.

"We will eat the one whose race is bad," they said to each other.

"Lion, who is your father?"

"My father is a lion, and my mother is a lioness."

"And you, Jackal, what is your father?"

"My father is a jackal, and my mother too."

"And you, Mule, what is your father?"

"My father is an ass, and my mother is a mare."

"Your race is bad; we will eat you."

He answered them: "I will consult an old man. If he says that my race is bad, you may devour me."

He went to a farrier, and said to him, "Shoe my hind feet, and make the nails stick out well."

He went back home. He called the Camel and showed him his feet, saying, "See what is written on this tablet."

"The writing is difficult to decipher," answered the Camel. "I do not understand it, for I only know three words—outini, ouzatini, ouazakin."

He called the Lion, and said to him, "I do not understand these letters; I only know three words—outini, ouzatini, ouazakin."

"Show it to me," said the Lion. He approached. The Mule struck him between the eyes and stretched him out level.

He who goes with a knave is betrayed by him.



AFRICAN FABLES

"The world is old, they say; I don't deny it; But, infant still In taste and will, Whoe'er would teach, must gratify it."

AFRICAN FABLES

The Hen and the Cat

A Cat arose in her house, went to a Hen and said to her: "Let us make friendship!"

The Hen replied to the Cat: "Dost thou like me for a friend?"

The Cat said, "Yes," and went away, and after having been at home for a while, she sent her child to the Hen, saying, "Go and tell the Hen to rise up early to-morrow morning, and to come and accompany me to a neighbouring town."

The child arose, went to the Hen's house and saluted her.

The Hen arose, and asked it: "Thou child of the Cat, dost thou come to me in peace?"

The Cat's child replied, "I come in peace; my mother has sent me to thee."

The Hen said to the Cat's child, "Say what thy mother has sent thee for; let me know."

After the Cat's child had told it to the Hen, it said: "I will go," and set out and went home.

When it was gone the Hen arose, called a child of hers, and said: "Go and ask the Cat at what time we shall go to the neighbouring town?" When the child had already started, she called it back again, saying, "Come back, I will tell thee something."

The child returned, and when it had come to its mother, she said to it, "When thou goest to the Cat, open thy ears and hear well what she says, and come and tell me."

The child went to the Cat, and saluted her, and when the Cat arose and came out to it, the Hen's child was standing there. The Cat asked the Hen's child, "Why did thy mother send thee to me?"

The Hen's child said, "My mother said I must come and ask thee how early shall we go to the neighbouring town?"

The Cat said to the Hen's child, "Go and tell thy mother to arise and come at the cockcrowing; for what should eat her?"

The Hen's child returned to its mother, and said to her, "Behold I went to the Cat's place where thou sentest me, and am come back."

The Hen said to her child, "What did the Cat say? Let me hear what word she spoke?"

Her child answered and said to her, "My mother, the word which the Cat spoke is this: 'Go and tell thy mother to come to me when the cock crows, that we may go; for what should eat her?'"

Its mother, the Hen, said to her child, "My child, lie down in your house, for I have heard what the Cat said."

The child of the Hen obeyed her mother, went and lay down, and also her mother lay down. They slept their sleep until the cock crew, which when the Cat heard, she arose, got ready and waited for the Hen, thinking, "May she come that we may go!" The cock crew the second time, and the Cat looked out on the way whence the Hen was to come, thinking, "May she come that we may go!"

The Hen did not get up at home and day came on. When it became day, the Cat arose in her house, went to the Hen's home, and said to her, "Hen, thou sentest thy child to me, and asked at what time thou shouldst rise up, and I said to thy child, 'Go and tell thy mother to come when the cock crows, that we may go.' Did it not tell thee what it was told by me, that thou art still sitting at home although it has become day?"

The Hen said to the Cat, "Sister Cat, if thou wishest to have me for a friend, I must never get up in my house and come out at night."

The Cat said to the Hen, "What art thou afraid of that thou sayest, 'I will never come out at night'? What is there in the way?"

The Hen listened to what the Cat said, got herself ready and called her children, saying, "Come and let us accompany the Cat to a neighbouring town!" All the children arose and when they had set out on their way, the Cat went before, and having gone on a little, she seized two of the children of the Hen; and the Hen saw that the cat was seizing two of her children; so she said to the Cat, "Sister Cat, we have scarcely set out on our way and dost thou seize two of my children?"

The Cat replied, "Thy two children which I took have not strength enough to walk; therefore did I take them to my bosom that we may go on."

The Hen said to the Cat, "If thou actest thus, I and thou must dissolve our friendship."

The Cat replied, "If thou wilt not have a friend, I shall let thee go home." So, as the Hen began to go home, the Cat made a bound, and seized the Hen's head, whereupon the Hen cried for help. All the people of the town heard her, arose, ran, and when they were come, the Cat was holding the Hen's head tight. When the Cat saw the people of the town, she left the Hen, ran away, and entered the forest.

There the Hen was standing and the people of the town said to her: "Foolish one, didst thou, a Hen, arise and go to befriend a Cat? If we had not heard thy screams, and come to thee, she would have killed thee and carried away all thy children into her forest."

The Hen said to the people of the town: "God bless you: you have taken me out of the Cat's mouth."

The people of the town said to her: "To-day our Lord has delivered thee, but for the future do thou no more make friendship with the Cat. The Cat is too cunning for thee: beware of the Cat in future!"

I have heard old people say, that on that day the cats and the fowls dissolved their friendship. This is finished.



The Stork and the Toad

A Stork went and laid eggs in a tree, brooded and hatched young ones. Then she left and went to seek food for her little ones; but she did not get any food, and all her little ones were crying for hunger. The Stork did not know what to do. So she arose one day, went to her friend, and said, "My friend, I am come to thee."

Her friend said: "What dost thou want that thou art come to me?"

She replied to her friend: "My children are hungry, and I have no food; therefore, am I come to thee; teach me a device!"

Her friend said to her: "Arise in the morning, go to the brook, and see whether there are Toads in it; then come back, and on the following morning go again, and lie down by the side of the brook; stretch out thy legs and thy wings, shut thine eyes, keep quite silent, and lie in one place until the Toads come out in the morning, and, after seeing thee, go home and call all their people to come, to take thee by the wing and to drag thee away. But do not thou speak to them—be perfectly quiet."

She listened to what her friend said, and at night-quiet she arose, and went to the brook, when all the Toads were singing; but as soon as they saw her, they went and hid themselves at the bottom of the water. So the Stork went home and slept, and having slept she arose up early and went back again to the brook, without being observed by the Toads; she went softly, and lay down by the side of the water, pretending to be dead, stretched out her legs, her wings, and her mouth, and shut her eyes. Thus she lay, until at break of day when one Toad arose, and, finding that it was day, came forth and saw the Stork lying. He went back, and called all the Toads:

"Come, behold, I have seen something dead, lying at the door of our house, and when I had seen it I came back to call you."

So all the Toads arose and followed him, and having come out, they all saw a Stork lying at the door of their house; but they did not know that the Stork was more cunning than themselves. They returned home, called a council together and said: "What shall we do? Some one who came, we do not know whence, has died before the gate of our town." All their great men answered, and said, "Arise all of you, go out, drag this dead body far away, and leave it there."

So they all arose, went, and, taking the Stork by its wings and legs, dragged it away.

The Stork was cunning; she saw them without their knowing it. They sang, as they dragged her away:

"Drag her and leave her! Drag her and leave her!"

The Stork did not speak to them, as they all dragged her away, although she saw them. Now when they had carried her far away, the Stork opened her eyes, which when they saw they all began to run away. As soon as the Stork saw that the Toads had begun to run away, she arose, and pursued them; having overtaken one, she took and swallowed it, and went on taking and swallowing them. The Toads kept running, but by the time they would have got home the Stork had swallowed them all, one by one. She had filled her bag, and then started on her way home. As soon as her children saw her, they all ran to their mother, saying, "Our mother has brought us food." When they came their mother threw all the Toads in her bag down to her children, and her children ate them, so that their hunger was appeased.

The Stork arose, went to her friend, and said:

"My friend, what thou toldest me yesterday is excellent: I went and lay down by the side of the brook, and when the Toads saw me in the morning, they thought I was dead; they came, dragged me along, and when they had carried me far away, not knowing that I was wiser than they and thinking that I was dead, I opened mine eyes to look at them; but on seeing me open mine eyes, they all began to run away. Then I arose, pursued them, and when I had overtaken one, I took and swallowed it; and when I had overtaken a second I took and swallowed it; so by the time they would have reached home I had swallowed them all, and filled my bag with them. I brought them to my children, and when my children were around me, I threw the Toads before them out of the bag and they ate them, that their hunger was appeased."

She also thanked her friend, saying: "God bless thee; thou hast taught me an excellent device."

Thus the Stork and her friend devised a plan, and thus they were able to maintain their children while the Toads were sitting in their house.

So now, when the Toads are croaking in a brook, and they see any one come, they are all quite silent, supposing that a Stork is coming.

This fable of the Stork and Toads, which I heard, is now finished.



The Rat and the Toad

The Toad said to the Rat, "I can do more than thou."

The Rat replied to the Toad: "Thou dost not know how to run; having flung thyself anywhere thou stoppest there. This is all thy run; and wilt thou say that thou canst do more than I?"

When the Toad had heard the words of the Rat he said to him: "If, according to thy opinion, I cannot do more than thou, thou shalt see what I will begin to do to-morrow; and if thou beginnest and doest the same, without anything happening to thee, thou canst do more than I."

The Rat agreed to the Toad's proposal, and went to see the Toad.

The Toad prepared himself, and when the sun reached about the middle, between the horizon and the zenith, the great men felt its heat, and went to sit down in the shade of a tree. The Toad on seeing this, arose, went to where the men were sitting, and passed through the midst of them. When the men observed him they said: "If you touch him, your hand will become bitter." So no one touched him, and the Toad passed through and went home.

Then the Toad said to the Rat, "Didst thou see me? Now if thou canst do what I do, arise, and begin to do it. I will see!"

The Rat, attending to what the toad said, got ready and the following morning, when the sun had gained strength and the great men had stood up and got under the shade of a tree, the Rat saw them sitting there, and went to do what the Toad had done; but when he came to where the men were sitting, and just went to pass through the midst of them, they saw him, and they all took sticks, and sought to kill him: one man attempting to kill him with a stick, struck at him, but did not hit him well, the stick touching him only a little on the back; so he ran away to the Toad.

On his arrival the Rat said to the Toad:

"Brother Toad, as thou wentest to where the people were sitting no one said a word to thee, and thou camest home again with a sound skin; but when I went, and they saw me, just as I went to pass through them they all took sticks, and sought to kill me; and one man taking a stick and striking at me to kill me, our Lord helped me, that the stick hit me only a little on the back; so I ran away, and came to thee. I disputed with thee, thinking that I could do what thou doest: now to-day I have experienced something; to-morrow let us begin again and when I have the experience of to-morrow, I shall be able to give thee an answer."

The Toad said to the Rat: "The things of today are passed; to-morrow, when the great men have gone and sat down under the tree, I will get ready and when thou hast seen that, on observing me come to them and pass through the midst of them, they will not say a word to me, thou also shalt do what I did." So the Rat then went to see the Toad.

As soon as the Toad saw the great men sitting under the tree, he again began, saying to the Rat, "Look at me, as I go to the place where the great men are sitting, with a sound skin: but if, on my return from them, if thou seest the wale of a stick on any part of my body, thou hast spoken the truth, and canst do more than I."

The Toad got ready, and on coming to where the men were sitting no one said anything to him; so he passed through the midst of them, and went again to the Rat, saying: "Look at me! Look at my whole body! Canst thou see the wale of a stick? If thou seest one, then tell me of it!"

When the Rat had looked at the Toad's whole body and not seen any wale of a stick he said to the Toad:

"Brother Toad, I have looked at thy whole body, and not seen any wale of a stick: thou art right."

The Toad said to the Rat. "As thou disputest with me, and maintainest that thou canst do what I do, get up again, and go to where the great men are sitting; and if on seeing thee, these men do not say anything to thee, so that I see thee come back to me again with a sound skin, then I know that thou canst do more than I."

The Rat, attending to what the Toad said, arose, got himself ready, and when he saw the great men sitting under the tree, he went toward them; but on observing him, they said: "Here comes a Rat," and they every one took a stick, and pursued him in order to kill him; so he ran away, and as he ran, a man with a stick pursued him; saying, "I will not let this Rat escape."

The Rat ran until his strength failed him. The man pursued him with his stick, to kill him; and having come near to him, he took his stick, and struck at him, with the purpose of killing him; but the stick did not hit him, and God saved him, his time being not yet arrived, by showing him a hole into which he crept. When the man saw that he had gotten into the hole, he went back and returned home. The Rat, on seeing that the man had gone home, came again out of the hole, and went to the Toad, saying to him:

"Brother Toad, I indeed at first disputed with thee, saying that I could do more than thou; but, as for my disputing with thee, thou in truth canst do more than I: when the people saw thee, they did not say a word to thee, but when they saw me, they wished to kill me; if our Lord had not helped me and showed me a hole, they, on seeing me, would not have left, but killed me; thou surpassest me in greatness."

At that time the Rat entreated our Lord and he placed it in a hole, but the Toad he placed in the open air. The Rat does not come out by day, before any one; as to the time when it comes out at night, it stretches its head out of the hole, and when it does not see anybody it comes out to seek its food.

As for the Toad, it comes out by day and by night, at any time, whenever it likes; it comes out and goes about, not anything likes to molest it; it is bitter, no one eats it on account of its bitterness; the Toad is left alone; therefore it goes about wherever it likes.

The Rat does not come out of its hole and walk about except at night.

What the Toad and the Rat did, this I heard, and have told to thee. This fable of the Toad and the Rat is now finished.



The Lion and the Wild Dog

The Lion said to the Wild Dog that he did not fear any one in the forest except these four, viz., tree-leaves, grass, flies, and earth, and when the Wild Dog said, "There is certainly one stronger than thou," the Lion replied to the Wild Dog, "I kill the young ones of the elephant, the wild cow, and the leopard, and bring them to my children to be eaten. If I give one roar, all the beasts of the forest tremble, every one of them, on hearing me roar; none is greater than I within this forest."

The Wild Dog said to the Lion, "As thou sayest that thou fearest not any one in this forest, so let us go and show me thy house; and I will come and call thee, in order to show thee a place where a black bird comes to eat, as soon as I shall see him again."

The Lion took the Wild Dog with him and showed him his house; and then the Wild Dog went home.

The next day, when a hunter was come to the forest the Wild Dog, on seeing him, went to the Lion's house, and said to the Lion:

"Brother Lion, come, and follow me, and I will show thee something which I have seen."

The Lion arose and followed the Wild Dog, and when they were come to where the hunter was, the hunter prepared himself: he had put on his forest garment, had sewn the bill of a long bird to his cap, and put it on his head, and he walked as a bird. The Wild Dog, seeing him, said to the Lion:

"Brother Lion, yonder is that black bird. Go and catch him, and when thou hast caught him, please give me one of his legs, for I want it for a charm."

The Lion attended to what the Wild Dog said, and went softly to where the bird was; but the Wild Dog ran back.

The Lion went, thinking, "I will kill the bird," but he did not know that on seeing him the hunter had prepared himself, and taken out his arrow; so, as he thought, "I will go and seize the bird," and was come close to the hunter, the hunter shot an arrow at the Lion and hit him. Then the Lion fell back, and having got up and fallen down three times, the arrow took effect and he felt giddy. In the same moment the hunter had disappeared[1] so that he saw him no more. Then the Lion recovered his courage and went very gently home.

On his arrival at home the Wild Dog said to him:

"Brother Lion, as thou saidst to me that thou art not afraid of any one in the world except our Lord, tree-leaves, grass, flies, and dirt, why didst thou not catch that black bird which I showed thee, and bring it to thy children?"

The Lion replied, "This man's strength is greater than mine."

Then the Wild Dog said again, "Thou saidst that thou fearest no one, except grass, flies, earth and tree-leaves; thou fearest, lest when thou enterest the forest, the leaves of trees should touch thee, or lest grass should touch thy body, or lest flies should sit on thy skin; thou also fearest to lie upon the bare earth, and thou fearest our Lord, who created thee: all these thou fearest, 'but not any other I fear within this forest,' thou saidst; and yet I showed thee a bird, the which thou couldst not kill, but thou leftest it, and rannest home; now tell me how this bird looks?"

The Lion answered and said to the Wild Dog: "Wild Dog, what thou saidst is true, and I believe it; a black man is something to be feared; if we do not fear a black man neither shall we fear our Lord who created us."

Now all the wild beasts which God has created hunt for their food in the forest, and eat it; but as soon as they see one black man standing, they do not stop and wait, but run away. Now the following beasts are dangerous in the forest: viz., the leopard, the lion, the wild cow, the wild dog and the hyena; but when they see a black man, they do not stop and wait. As for the dispute which the Lion and the Wild Dog had, the Wild Dog was right, and the Lion gave him his right; then they shook hands again, and each went and ran to his own home. This fable, which I heard, respecting the Wild Dog and the Lion, is now finished.

[1]This refers to the universal belief that hunters are able to render themselves invisible, in moments of danger, by the operation of charms and witchcraft.



How Sense Was Distributed

In the beginning not one of all the beasts of the forest was endowed with sense: when they saw a hunter come to them intending to kill them, they stood and looked at the hunter, and so the hunter killed them; day after day he killed them. Then our Lord sent one who put all the sense into a bag, tied it, carried it, and put it down under a large tree.

The Weasel saw the man put the bag down, and afterward went, called the Hare, and said to him:

"Brother Hare, I saw a man put something down under a tree, but as I went to take it, I could not; so let us go and if thou wilt take it I will show it to thee that thou mayest do so."

When the Weasel and the Hare had gone together to where the bag was, the Weasel said to the Hare, "Behold, here is the thing which I could not take and for which I called thee here."

But as the Hare went and attempted to take it, he could not, so he left it and went away.

When he was gone the Weasel went again to take hold of the bag, but as he attempted to take it, it was too heavy; so the Weasel did not know what to do. Then came a Pigeon, who sat upon a tree, and said something to the Weasel. The Weasel heard it say: "Lean it over and take it." And again, "Bend it and take it."

As soon as he had heard this, he dragged the bag along and thus brought it and leaned it against a tree, and caused it to stand in an inclined position; then having gone to the bottom of it, he bowed down, put his head to the bag, and as he drew the bag toward him it went upon his head; this being done, he pressed himself upon the ground, rose up and stood there. After this he went his way home, and on putting the bag down upon the ground and untying it, the Weasel saw that there was no other thing in the bag, but pure sense.

So he went and called the Hare again, and when the Hare was come, he said to him:

"Brother Hare, there was not a single other thing in that bag but pure sense: God has loved us so that to-day we have obtained sense; but do not tell it to anybody, then I will give thee a little, and what remains I will hide in my hole until some one comes and begs of me, and then I will give him also a little."

So he took one sense and gave to the Hare, saying, "If thou takest home this one sense, which I give thee, it will preserve thee. When thou sleepest by day open thy eyes; then if one comes to thee, thinking, 'I have got meat, I will take it,' and sees that thine eyes are open, he will think that thou art not asleep, will leave thee alone and go; but when thou goest and liest down without sleeping, then shut thine eyes, and if one sees thee, and sees that thine eyes are shut, when he comes close to thee, saying, 'I have got meat, I will take it,' then thou wilt see him, rise up and run away into thy forest. This one sense will be enough for thee; but what remains I will keep in mine own house." The Hare took his one sense and went home.

Now if one sees a Hare lying with his eyes open, it sleeps, but if its eyes are closed it is awake, and does not sleep. By this one sense which it has got the Hare is preserved.

The Weasel took all the sense that was left and hid it in his house. The Weasel surpasses all the beasts of the field in sense. When you see the Weasel, and say, "There the King of Sense has come out," and drive it before you, saying, "I will catch it," it runs into its hole; and if you begin to dig up the hole, it comes out behind you, and runs until you see it no more. This is why now if one sees a Weasel, one calls it "The King of Sense."

Amongst all the beasts of the field he distributed sense only little by little, and this is what they now have.

This word, showing how sense came abroad in the world, and the meaning of which I have heard, is now finished.



What Employment Our Lord Gave to Insects

All the Insects assembled and went to our Lord to seek employment. On their arrival they said to our Lord, "Thou hast given every one his work; now give us also a work to do, that we may have something to eat."

Our Lord attended to the request of the Insects, and said to them, "Who will give notice that to-morrow all the Insects are to come?"

The Merchant-insect arose and said to our Lord, "The Cricket can give notice well."

So our Lord called the Cricket and said to him when he was come, "Go and give notice this evening, when the sun has set, that to-morrow morning all the Insects are to come to me, for I wish to see them."

The Cricket, obeying our Lord's command, went back to his house, waited until evening, until the sun set, and as soon as he had seen the setting of the sun, he prepared and arose to give notice. So when the Cricket had given notice until midnight, our Lord sent a man to him saying: "Go and tell the Cricket, that there has been much notice, and that it is now enough; else he will have the headache." But the Cricket would not hear, he said: "If I am out they will see me." So he went into his hole, stretched only his head out, and began to give notice. The Cricket went on giving notice until the day dawned; but when it was day he became silent and stopped giving notice. Then all the Insects arose and went to the prayer-place of our Lord, the Merchant alone being left behind. To all the Insects who came first, our Lord gave their employment, which they all took and went home.

Afterward also the Merchant-insect went to our Lord, and our Lord said to him: "To all thy people who came before, I have given their work, and they are gone; now what kept thee back that thou camest to me last?"

The Merchant-insect replied to our Lord, "My bags are many and on the day when I took my bags and bound them up in my large travelling sacks to load them upon my asses, then my people left me behind and came to thee first."

Our Lord said to him: "All other employments are assigned; the people who came first took them and went away; but stop, I will also give one to thee. Go, and having arrived at the entrance of the black ants, where are a great many ant-heads, when thou seest these many heads of the black ants, take them, and fill thy bags with them; then load thy bags upon thy ass, carry them to market, spread mats there, and sell them."

So the Merchant-insect obtained his employment, drove his ass, and went from our Lord, picked up ant-heads at the entrance of the black ants, loaded his ass, and went his way to the market. As he went the ass threw off the large bag. Then, he alone not being able to lift the bag, he called people, saying: "Come, be so good as to help me; let us take the sacks and load mine ass;" but not any of the people would do so. Then the little red ants came after him, and when they were come to where he was, he said to them, "Please come and help me to load mine ass". The little red Ants said to the Merchant-insect, "We will not help thee for nothing."

The Merchant-insect said to the little red Ants, "If you will not help me for nothing, then come and help me, and when I have come back from the market, I will pay you."

The little red Ants helped him to load his ass, and the Merchant-insect drove his ass to the market, put down his sacks in the midst of the market-place, prepared the ground, spread his mat there, and having sold his ant-heads, he bought his things, and the market people began to disperse.

Then the Merchant-insect started on his way home, and as he went the little red Ants saw him, and said to him, "Father-merchant, give us what thou owest us."

The Merchant, however, refused them their due, and went on his way. Now as he went he got fever so that he sat down under a tree, tied his ass fast, and took off the sacks from his ass's back. As he sat there the fever overpowered him, and he lay down. On seeing him lying the little red Ants assembled and came to him. Now the fever was consuming the Merchant-insect's strength, and when the little red Ants saw this they assembled together and killed him.

There was one Insect who saw them kill him, and he ran to our Lord, and said to him, "All the little red Ants assembled together and killed a man in the midst of the town—that I saw it."

When our Lord heard what the Insect said he called a man and sent him, saying: "Go and call the little red Ants which kill people and bring them to me."

The messenger arose, went, called all the little red Ants and brought them before our Lord. On seeing the little red Ants, our Lord asked them, "Why did you kill the man?" The little red Ants answered, and said to our Lord, "The reason why we killed this man is this: When he went to market and his ass had thrown off the sacks, those sacks were too heavy for him to take alone, so he called us, and when we came to him, he said to us, 'Please help me to take my large bag and load it upon mine ass, that I may go to market. When I have sold my things and come back, I will pay you.' Accordingly we helped him to load his ass; but when he had gone to market and sold all his things there, we saw him on his return home, and went to him, to ask him for what he owed us; but he refused it, drove his ass, and went homeward. However, he was only gone a little while, when he got fever, sat down under a tree, tied his ass fast, took off his sacks and laid them down; and on the same spot where he sat down, the fever overpowered him that he lay down. Then on seeing him lying we went, assembled ourselves and killed him, because he had refused what he owed us."

Our Lord gave them right.

Our Lord said to the Merchant, "Thou goest to market until thy life stands still." Our Lord said to the Cricket, "Do thou give notice whenever it is time! This is thy work."

Our Lord said to the little red Ants, "Whenever ye see any Insect unwell and lying down in a place, then go, assemble yourselves and finish it."

Now the Cricket begins to give notice as soon as it is evening and does not keep silence in his hole until the morning comes; this is its employment. The Merchant has no farm and does not do any work, but constantly goes to market; this is its employment, given to it by the Lord. Now the little red Ants, whenever they see an Insect unwell and lying down they go and assemble themselves against that Insect, and, even if that Insect has not yet expired they finish it. This our Lord gave to the little red Ants for their employment.

I have now told thee the fable of the Insects, which I have heard of Omar Pesami. This is finished.



Man and Turtle

Let me tell of Turtle of Koka.

Man of Lubi la Suku caught a Turtle in the bush; he came with it to the village. They said: "Let us kill it!"

Some people said: "How shall we kill it?" They said: "We shall cut it with hatchets." Turtle replied, saying:

"Turtle of Koka, And hatchet of Koka; Hatchet not kill me a bit."

The people said: "What shall we kill him with?" Some said: "We shall kill him with stones." Turtle, fear grasped him, he said: "I am going to die." He says by mouth:

"Turtle of Koka, And stone of Koka; Stone will not kill me a bit."

The people said: "Let us cast him into the fire!" Turtle said:

"Turtle of Koka, And fire of Koka; Fire will not kill me a bit. On my back, It is like stone; Not there can Catch on fire."

The people said: "We will kill him with knives." Turtle said:

"Turtle of Koka, And knife of Koka; Knife will not kill me a bit."

The people said: "This fellow, how shall we do? How shall we kill him?" These said: "Let us cast him into the depth of water." Turtle said: "Woe! I shall die there! How shall I do?" The people said: "We have it! We have found the way we can kill him!"

They carry him; they arrive with him at the river. They cast him into the depth. Turtle dives; after a while he emerges. There he is swimming and singing:

"In water, in my home! In water, in my home!"

The people said: "Oh! Turtle has fooled us. We were going to kill him with hatchets; he says, 'Hatchet will not kill me a bit.' We spoke of casting him into the water; he says, 'I am going to die.' We came; we cast him into the water; but we saved him."

This is what caused the Turtle to live in the water: the people were going to kill him; but he was shrewd.



Nianga Dia Ngenga and Leopard

Nianga Dia Ngenga takes up his gun, saying: "I will go a-hunting." He has reached the bush; he has hunted; he saw not game; he says: "I will go."

When he returns home, he finds Mr. Leopard, whom they have stuck up in the fork of a tree. When he sees Nianga, he says: "Father Nianga, help me out!" Nianga says: "What has done this to thee?" He says: "Unfork me first; I shall tell thee."

Nianga took him out; he set him on the ground. He says: "Elephant has stuck me up in the fork of the tree. Sir, to whom one has given life, one gives more. I have been two days on the tree; give me a little food." Nianga says: "Where shall I find food?" He says: "Anywhere."

Nianga takes up his dog; he gives it to Mr. Leopard. Mr. Leopard ate it and said, "I am not satisfied." Nianga takes up also the other dog; he gives it to Mr. Leopard. He has eaten, says, "Still I have not enough." Nianga dia Ngenga took up his cartridge-box; he gives him it. Mr. Leopard, when he had eaten it, said, "Still I have not enough."

Hare comes; he finds them talking; says: "Why are you quarrelling?" Nianga says: "Mr. Leopard, I found him in the fork of a tree. Says he, 'Take me out!' I took him out. Says he, 'Give me to eat!' I gave him both my dogs and my cartridge-box. He says, 'Give me more to eat.' That is what we are quarrelling about."

Hare says: "Mr. Leopard, let him be again on the tree, where he was; that I may see." Mr. Leopard returns to the tree, where he was. Hare moves off to a distance; he calls Nianga. He says: "Thou, Nianga, art unwise. Mr. Leopard is a wild beast, he is wont to catch people. Thou, who didst get him out of there, he wanted to devour thee. Shoot him."

Nianga then shoots Mr. Leopard.

The end . . . "is with God."



Leopard and the Other Animals

Mr. Leopard lived. One day hunger grasps him. He says: "How shall I do? I will call all the animals in the world, saying, 'Come ye, let us have a medical consultation.' When the animals come then I may catch and eat."

He sends at once to call Deer, Antelope, Soko, Hare, and Philantomba. They gather, saying: "Why didst thou send for us?" He says: "Let us consult medicine, that we get health."

The sun is broken down. They begin the drums outside with the songs. Mr. Leopard himself is beating the drum; he is saying, saying:

"O Antelope! O Deer! Your friend is sick; Do not shun him! O Antelope! O Deer! Your friend is sick; Do not shun him! O Antelope! O Deer! Your friend is sick; Do not shun him'"

Deer says: "Chief, the drum, how art thou playing it? Bring it here; that I play it." Mr. Leopard gives him it. Deer takes the drum, says:

"Not sickness; Wiliness holds thee Not sickness; Wiliness holds thee! Not sickness; Wiliness holds thee!"

Mr. Leopard stood up from ground, said: "Thou, Deer, knowest not how to play the drum."

The animals all then ran away, saying, "Mr. Leopard has a scheme to catch us."



Elephant and Frog

I often tell of Mr. Elephant and Mr. Frog, who were courting at one house.

One day Mr. Frog spake to the sweetheart of Mr. Elephant, saying: "Mr. Elephant is my horse." Mr. Elephant, when he came at night, then the girls tell him, saying: "Thou art the horse of Mr. Frog!"

Mr. Elephant then goes to Mr. Frog's, saying: "Didst thou tell my sweetheart that I am thy horse?" Mr. Frog says, saying: "No; I did not say so." They go together to find the sweetheart of Mr. Elephant.

On the way, Mr. Frog told Mr. Elephant, saying: "Grandfather, I have not strength to walk. Let me get up on thy back!" Mr. Elephant said: "Get up, my grandson." Mr. Frog then goes up.

When a while passed, he told Mr. Elephant: "Grandfather, I am going to fall. Let me seek small cords to bind thee in mouth." Mr. Elephant consents. Mr. Frog then does what he has asked.

When passed a little while, he told again Mr. Elephant, saying: "Let me seek a green twig to fan the mosquitoes off thee." Mr. Elephant says: "Go." He then fetches the twig.

Then, when they were about to arrive, the girls saw them, and they went to meet them with shouting, saying: "Thou, Mr. Elephant, art the horse indeed of Mr. Frog!"



Dog and the Kingship

Mr. Dog, they wanted to invest him with the kingship. They sought all the things of royalty: the cap, the sceptre, the rings, the skin of mulkaka. The things are complete; they say: "The day has come to install."

The headmen all came in full; they sent for the players of drum and marimba; they have come. They spread coarse mats and fine mats. Where the lord is going to sit, they laid a coarse mat; they spread on it a fine mat; they set a chair on. They say: "Let the lord sit down." He sat down. The people begin to divide the victuals.

He, Mr. Dog, on seeing the breast of a fowl, greed grasped him. He stood up in haste; took the breast of the fowl; ran into the bush. The people said: "The lord, whom we are installing, has run away with the breast of the fowl into the bush!" The people separated.

Mr. Dog, who was going to be invested with the kingship, because of his thievery, the kingship he lost it.

I have told my little tale. Finished.



The Builder of Ability and the Builder of Haste

Two men called themselves one name. This one said: "I am Ndala, the builder of ability." The other one said: "I am Ndala, the builder of haste."

They say: "We will go to trade." They start; they arrive in middle of road. A storm comes. They stop, saying: "Let us build grass-huts!" Ndala, the builder of haste, built in haste; he entered into his hut. Ndala, the builder of ability is building carefully. The storm comes; it kills him outside. Ndala, the builder of haste escaped, because his hut was finished; it sheltered him when the storm came on.



FABLES FROM KRILOF

"Shall not my fable censure vice, Because a Knave is over-nice? And, lest the guilty hear and dread, Shall not the decalogue be read?"

JOHN GAY

FABLES FROM KRILOF

The Education of the Lion

To the Lion, king of the forests, was given a son.

Among us, a child a year old, even if it belong to a royal family, is small and weak. But, by the time it has lived a twelve-month, a lion-cub has long ago left off its baby-clothes.

So, at the end of a year, the Lion began to consider that he must not allow his royal son to remain ignorant, that the dignity of the kingdom be not degraded, and that when the son's turn should come to govern the kingdom the nation should have no cause to reproach the father on his account.

But whom should he entreat, or compel, or induce by rewards, to instruct the czarevitch to become a czar?

The Fox is clever, but it is terribly addicted to lying, and a liar is perpetually getting into trouble. "No," thought the Lion, "the science of falsehood is not one which princes ought to study."

Should he trust him to the Mole? All who speak of that animal say that it is an extreme admirer of order and regularity; that it never takes a step till it has examined the ground before it, and that it cleans and shells with its own paws every grain of corn that comes to its table. In fact, the Mole has the reputation of being very great in small affairs; but, unfortunately, it cannot see anything at a distance. The Mole's love of order is an excellent thing for animals of its own kind, but the Lion's kingdom is considerably more extensive than a mole-run.

Should he choose the Panther? The Panther is brave and strong, and is, besides, a great master of military tactics; but the Panther knows nothing of politics, is ignorant of everything that belongs to civil affairs. A king must be a judge and a minister as well as a warrior. The Panther is good for nothing but fighting; so it, too, is unfit to educate royal children.

To be brief, not a single beast, not even the Elephant himself, who was as much esteemed in the forest as Plato used to be in Greece, seemed wise enough to satisfy the Lion.

By good fortune, or the opposite—we shall find out which—another king, the king of birds, the Eagle, an old acquaintance and friend of the Lion, heard of that monarch's difficulty, and, wishing to do his friend a great kindness, offered to educate the young Lion himself.

The Lion felt a great weight removed from his shoulders. What could be better than a king as the tutor for a prince? So the Lion-cub was got ready, and sent off to the Eagle's court, there to learn how to govern.

And now two or three years go by. Ask whom you will, meanwhile, you hear nothing but praise of the young Lion; and all the birds scatter throughout the forests the wonderful stories of his merits.

At last the appointed time comes, and the Lion sends for his son. The prince arrives, and all the people are gathered together, great and small alike.

The king embraces his son before them all, and thus addresses him: "My beloved son, you are my only heir. I am looking forward to the grave, but you are just entering upon life. Before I make over my sceptre to you, tell me, in the presence of this assembly, what you have been taught, and in what manner you propose to make your people happy."

"Papa," exclaimed the prince, "I know what no one here knows. I can tell where each bird, from the Eagle to the Quail, can most readily find water, on what each of them lives, and how many eggs it lays; and I can count up the wants of every bird, without missing one. Here is the certificate my tutor gave me. It was not for nothing that the birds used to say that I could pick the stars out of the sky. When you have made up your mind to transfer the kingdom to me, I will immediately begin to teach the beasts how to make nests."

On this the king and all his beasts howled aloud; the members of the council hung their heads; and, too late, the Lion perceived that the young Lion had learned nothing of what was wanted, that he was acquainted with birds only, not knowing anything of the nature of beasts, although he was destined to rule over them, and that he was destitute of that which is most requisite in kings—the knowledge of the wants of their own people and the interests of their own country.



The Pebble and the Diamond

A Diamond, which some one had lost, lay for some time on the high road. At last it happened that a merchant picked it up. By him it was offered to the king, who bought it, had it set in gold, and made it one of the ornaments of the royal crown. Having heard of this, a Pebble began to make a fuss. The brilliant fate of the Diamond fascinated it; and, one day, seeing a Moujik passing, it besought him thus:

"Do me a kindness, fellow-countryman, and take me with you to the capital. Why should I go on suffering here in rain and mud, while our Diamond is, men say, in honour there? I don't understand why it has been treated with such respect. Side by side with me here it lay so many years; it is just such a stone as I am—my close companion. Do take me! How can one tell? If I am seen there, I too, perhaps, may be found worthy of being turned to account."

The Moujik took the stone into his lumbering cart, and conveyed it to the city. Our stone tumbled into the cart, thinking that it would soon be sitting by the side of the Diamond. But a quite different fate befell it. It really was turned to account, but only to mend a hole in the road.



The Pike and the Cat

A conceited Pike took it into its head to exercise the functions of a cat. I do not know whether the Evil One had plagued it with envy, or whether, perhaps, it had grown tired of fishy fare; but, at all events, it thought fit to ask the Cat to take it out to the chase, with the intention of catching a few mice in the warehouse. "But, my dear friend," Vaska says to the Pike, "do you understand that kind of work? Take care, gossip, that you don't incur disgrace. It isn't without reason that they say: 'The work ought to be in the master's power.'"

"Why really, gossip, what a tremendous affair it is! Mice, indeed! Why, I have been in the habit of catching perches!"

"Oh, very well. Come along!"

They went; they lay each in ambush. The Cat thoroughly enjoyed itself; made a hearty meal; then went to look after its comrade. Alas! the Pike, almost destitute of life, lay there gasping, its tail nibbled away by the mice. So the Cat, seeing that its comrade had undertaken a task quite beyond its strength, dragged it back, half dead, to its pond.



Trishka's Caftan

Trishka's caftan was out at the elbows. But why should he ponder long over it? He took to his needle, cut a quarter off each sleeve: so mended the elbows.

The caftan was all right again, only his arms were bare for a quarter of their length. That is no great matter, but every one is always laughing at Trishka. So Trishka says:

"I'm not a fool. I'll set this affair straight also. I'll make the sleeves longer than they were before. They shall see Trishka is no mere commonplace fellow."

So he cut off the skirts of his caftan, and used them to lengthen his sleeves.

Then Trishka was happy, though he had a caftan which was as short as a waistcoat.

In a similar way I have sometimes seen other embarrassed people set straight their affairs. Take a look at them as they dash away. They have all got on Trishka's caftan.



The Elephant as Governor

An Elephant was once appointed ruler of a forest. Now it is well known that the race of elephants is endowed with great intelligence; but every family has its unworthy scion. Our Governor was as stout as the rest of his race are, but as foolish as the rest of his race are not. As to his character, he would not intentionally hurt a fly. Well, the worthy Governor becomes aware of a petition laid before him by the Sheep, stating that their skins are entirely torn off their backs by the Wolves.

"Oh, rogues!" cries the Elephant, "what a crime! Who gave you leave to plunder?"

But the Wolves say:

"Allow us to explain, O father. Did not you give us leave to take from the Sheep a trifling contribution for our pelisses in winter? It is only because they are stupid sheep that they cry out. They have only a single fleece taken from each of them, but they grumble about giving even that!"

"Well, well," says the Elephant, "take care what you do. I will not permit any one to commit injustice. As it must be so, take a fleece from each of them. But do not take from them a single hair besides."



The Quartette

The tricksy Monkey, the Goat, the Ass, and bandy-legged Mishka the Bear, determine to play a quartette. They provide themselves with the necessary pieces of music—with two fiddles, and with an alto and a counter-bass. Then they sit down on a meadow under a lime-tree, prepared to enchant the world by their skill. They work away at their fiddlesticks with a will; and they make a noise, but there is no music in it.

"Stop, brothers, stop!" cries the Monkey, "wait a little! How can we get our music right? It's plain, you mustn't sit as you are. You, Mishka, with your counter-bass, face the alto. I will sit opposite the second fiddle. Then a different sort of music will begin: we shall set the very hills and forests dancing."

So they change places, and recommence; but the music is just as discordant as before.

"Stop a little," exclaims the Ass; "I have found out the secret. We shall be sure to play in tune if we sit in a row."

They follow its advice, and form in an orderly line. But the quartette is as unmusical as ever. Louder than before there arose among them squabbling and wrangling as to how they ought to be seated. It happened that a Nightingale came flying that way, attracted by their noise. At once they all entreated it to solve their difficulty.

"Be so kind," they say, "as to bear with us a little, in order that our quartette may come off properly. Music we have; instruments we have: tell us only how we ought to place ourselves."

But the Nightingale replies,

"To be a musician, one must have a quicker intelligence and a finer ear than you possess. You, my friends, may place yourselves just as you like, but you will never become musicians."



Demian's Fish Soup

"Neighbour, light of mine eyes! do eat a little more!"

"Dear neighbour, I am full to the throat."

"No matter; just a little plateful. Believe me, the soup is cooked gloriously."

"But I've had three platefuls already."

"Well, what does that matter? If you like it, and it does you good, why not eat it all up? What a soup it is! How rich! It looks as if it had been sprinkled with amber. Here is a bream; there a lump of sterlet. Take a little more, dear, kind friend. Just another spoonful. Wife, come and entreat him!"

Thus does Demian feast his neighbour Phocas, not giving him a moment's breathing time.

Phocas feels the moisture trickling down his forehead. Still he takes the soup, attacks it with all the strength he has left, and somehow manages to swallow the whole of it.

"That's the sort of friend I like!" cries Demian. "I can't bear people who require pressing. But now, dear friend, take just this one little plateful more."

But, on hearing this, our poor Phocas, much as he liked fish soup, catching hold of his cap and sash, runs away home, not once looking behind him.

Nor from that day to this has he crossed Demian's threshold.



The Wolf and Its Cub

A Wolf, which had begun to accustom its Cub to support itself by its father's profession, sent it one day to prowl about the skirts of the wood. At the same time it ordered it to give all its attention to seeing whether it would not be possible, even at the cost of sinning a little, for them both to make their breakfast or dinner at the expense of some shepherd or other. The pupil returns home, and says:

"Come along, quick! Our dinner awaits us: nothing could possibly be safer. There are sheep feeding at the foot of yon hill, each one fatter than the other. We have only to choose which to carry off and eat; and the flock is so large that it would be difficult to count it over again——"

"Wait a minute," says the Wolf. "First of all I must know what sort of a man the shepherd of this flock is.

"It is said that he is a good one—painstaking and intelligent. But I went round the flock on all sides, and examined the dogs: they are not at all fat, and seem to be spiritless and indolent."

"This description," says the old Wolf, "does not greatly attract me to the flock. For, decidedly, if the shepherd is good, he will not keep bad dogs about him. One might very soon get into trouble there. But come with me: I will take you to a flock where we shall be in less danger of losing our skins. Over that flock it is true that a great many dogs watch; but the shepherd is himself a fool. And where the shepherd is a fool there the dogs too are of little worth."



The Pike

An appeal to justice was made against the Pike, on the ground that it had rendered the pond uninhabitable. A whole cart-load of proofs was tendered as evidence; and the culprit, as was beseeming, was brought into court in a large tub. The judges were assembled not far off, having been set to graze in a neighbouring field. Their names are still preserved in the archives. There were two Donkeys, a couple of old Horses, and two or three Goats. The Fox also was added to their number, as assessor, in order that the business might be carried on under competent supervision.

Now, popular report said that the Pike used to supply the table of the Fox with fish. However this might be, there was no partiality among the judges; and it must also be stated that it was impossible to conceal the Pike's roguery in the affair in question. So there was no help for it. Sentence was passed, condemning the Pike to an ignominious punishment. In order to frighten others, it was to be hung from a tree.

"Respected judges," thus did the Fox begin to speak, "hanging is a trifle. I should have liked to have sentenced the culprit to such a punishment as has never been seen here among us. In order that rogues may in future live in fear, and run a terrible risk, I would drown it in the river."

"Excellent!" cry the judges, and unanimously accept the proposition.

So the Pike was flung—into the river.



The Cuckoo and the Eagle

The Eagle promoted a Cuckoo to the rank of a Nightingale. The Cuckoo, proud of its new position, seated itself proudly on an aspen, and began to exhibit its musical talents. After a time, it looks round. All the birds are flying away, some laughing at it, others abusing it. Our Cuckoo grows angry, and hastens to the Eagle with a complaint against the birds.

"Have pity on me!" it says. "According to your command, I have been appointed Nightingale to these woods, and yet the birds dare to laugh at my singing."

"My friend," answers the Eagle, "I am a king, but I am not God. It is impossible for me to remedy the cause of your complaint. I can order a Cuckoo to be styled a Nightingale; but to make a Nightingale out of a Cuckoo—that I cannot do."



The Peasant and the Sheep

A Peasant summoned a Sheep into courts charging the poor thing with a criminal offence. The judge was—the Fox.

The case was immediately in full swing. Plaintiff and defendant were equally adjured to state, point by point, and without both speaking at once, how the affair took place, and in what their proof consisted.

Says the Peasant: "On such and such a day, I missed two of my fowls early in the morning. Nothing was left of them but bones and leathers; and no one had been in the yard but the Sheep."

Then the Sheep depones that it was fast asleep all the night in question, and it calls all its neighbours to testify that they had never known it guilty either of theft or any roguery; and besides this, it states that it never touches flesh-meat.

Here is the Fox's decision, word for word:

"The explanation of the Sheep cannot, under any circumstances, be accepted, for all rogues are notoriously clever at concealing their real designs; and it appears manifest, on due inquiry, that, on the aforesaid night, the Sheep was not separated from the fowls. Fowls are exceedingly savoury, and opportunity favoured. Therefore I decide, according to my conscience, that it is impossible that the Sheep should have forborne to eat the fowls. The Sheep shall accordingly be put to death. Its carcass shall be given to the court, and its fleece be taken by the Plaintiff."



The Elephant in Favour

Once upon a time the Elephant stood high in the good graces of the Lion. The forest immediately began to talk of the matter, and, as usual, many guesses were made as to the means by which the Elephant had gained such favour.

"It is no beauty," say the beasts to each other, "and it is not amusing; and what habits it has! what manners!"

Says the Fox, whisking about his brush, "If it had possessed such a bushy tail as mine, I should not have wondered."

"Or, sister," says the Bear, "if it had gotten into favour on account of its claws, no one would have found the matter at all extraordinary; but it has no claws at all, as we all know well."

"Isn't it its tusks that have gotten it into favour?" thus the Ox broke in upon their conversation. "Haven't they, perhaps, been mistaken for horns."

"Is it possible," said the Ass, shaking its ears, "that you don't know how it has succeeded in making itself liked, and in becoming distinguished? Why, I have guessed the reason! If it hadn't been remarkable for its long ears, it would never in the world have gotten into favour."



The Sword-blade

The keen blade of a Sword, made of Damascus steel, which had been thrown aside on a heap of old iron, was sent to market with the other pieces of metal, and sold for a trifle to a Moujik. Now, a Moujik's ideas move in a narrow circle. He immediately set to work to turn the blade to account. Our Moujik fitted a handle to the blade, and began to strip lime-trees in the forest with it, of the bark he wanted for shoes, while at home he unceremoniously splintered fir chips with it. Sometimes, also, he would lop off twigs with it, or small branches for mending his wattled fences, or would shape stakes with it for his garden paling. And the result was that, before the year was out, our blade was notched and rusted from one end to the other, and the children used to ride astride of it. So one day a Hedgehog, which was lying under a bench in the cottage, close by the spot where the blade had been flung, said to it:

"Tell me, what do you think of this life of yours? If there is any truth in all the fine things that are said about Damascus steel, you surely must be ashamed of having to splinter fir chips, and square stakes, and of being turned, at last, into a plaything for children."

But the Sword-blade replied:

"In the hands of a warrior, I should have been a terror to the foe; but here my special faculties are of no avail. So in this house I am turned to base uses only. But am I free to choose my employment? No, not I, but he, ought to be ashamed who could not see for what I was fit to be employed."



The Cuckoo and the Turtle-dove

A Cuckoo sat on a bough, bitterly complaining.

"Why art thou so sad, dear friend?" sympathizingly cooed the Turtle-dove to her, from a neighbouring twig. "Is it because spring has passed away from us, and love with it; that the sun has sunk lower, and that we are nearer to the winter?"

"How can I help grieving, unhappy one that I am?" replied the Cuckoo: "thou shalt thyself be the judge. This spring my love was a happy one, and, after a while, I became a mother. But my offspring utterly refused even to recognize me. Was it such a return that I expected from them? And how can I help being envious when I see how ducklings crowd around their mother—how chickens hasten to the hen when she calls to them. Just like an orphan I sit here, utterly alone, and know not what filial affection means."

"Poor thing!" says the Dove, "I pity you from my heart. As for me, though I know such things often occur, I should die outright it my dovelets did not love me. But tell me, have you already brought up your little ones? When did you find time to build a nest? I never saw you doing anything of the kind: you were always flying and fluttering about."

"No, indeed!" says the Cuckoo. "Pretty nonsense it would have been if I had spent such fine days in sitting on a nest! That would, indeed, have been the highest pitch of stupidity! I always laid my eggs in the nests of other birds."

"Then how can you expect your little ones to care for you?" says the Turtle-dove.



The Peasant and the Horse

A Peasant was sowing oats one day. Seeing the work go on, a young Horse began to reason about it, grumbling to himself:

"A pretty piece of work, this, for which he brings such a quantity of oats here! And yet they are all the time saying that men are wiser than we are. Can anything possibly be more foolish or ridiculous than to plough up a whole field like this in order to scatter one's oats over it afterward to no purpose. Had he given them to me, or to the bay there, or had he even thought fit to fling them to the fowls, it would have been more like business. Or even if he had hoarded them up, I should have recognized avarice in that. But to fling them uselessly away—why, that is sheer stupidity!"

Meanwhile time passed; and in the autumn the oats were garnered, and the Peasant fed this very Horse upon them all the winter.

There can be no doubt, Reader, that you do not approve of the opinions of the Horse. But from the oldest times to our own days has not man been equally audacious in criticising the designs of a Providence of whose means or ends he sees and knows nothing?



The Wolf and the Cat

A Wolf ran out of the forest into a village—not to pay a visit, but to save its life; for it trembled for its skin.

The huntsmen and a pack of hounds were after it. It would fain have rushed in through the first gateway; but there was this unfortunate circumstance against the scheme that all the gateways were closed.

The Wolf sees a Cat on a partition fence, and says pleadingly, "Vaska, my friend, tell me quickly, which of the moujiks here is the kindest, so that I may hide myself from my evil foes? Listen to the cry of the dogs and the terrible sound of the horns? All that noise is actually made in chase of me!"

"Go quickly, and ask Stefan," says Vaska, the Cat; "he is a very kind man."

"Quite true; only I have torn the skin off one of his sheep."

"Well, then, you can try Demian."

"I'm afraid he's angry with me, too; I carried off one of his kids."

"Run over there, then; Trofim lives there."

"Trofim! I should be afraid of even meeting him. Ever since the spring he has been threatening me about a lamb."

"Dear me, that's bad! But perhaps Klim will protect you."

"Oh, Vaska, I have killed one of his calves."

"What do I hear, friend? You've quarrelled with all the village," cried Vaska to the Wolf. "What sort of protection can you hope for here? No, no; our moujiks are not so destitute of sense as to be willing to save you to their own hurt. And, really, you have only yourself to blame. What you have sown, that you must now reap."



The Eagle and the Mole

An Eagle and his mate flew into a deep forest and determined to make it their permanent abode. So they chose an oak, lofty and wide-spreading, and began to build themselves a nest on the top of it, hoping there to rear their young in the summer.

A Mole, who heard about all this, plucked up courage enough to inform the Eagles that the oak was not a proper dwelling-place for them; that it was almost entirely rotten at the root, and was likely soon to fall, and that therefore the Eagles ought not to make their nest upon it.

But is it becoming that an Eagle should accept advice coming from a Mole in a hole? Where then would be the glory of an Eagle having such keen eyes? And how comes it that Moles dare to meddle in the affairs of the king of Birds?

So, saying very little to the Mole, whose counsel he despised, the Eagle set to work quickly—and the King soon got ready the new dwelling for the Queen.

All goes well, and now the Eagles have little ones. But what happens? One day, when at early dawn the Eagle is hastening back from the chase, bringing a rich breakfast to his family, as he drops down from the sky he sees—his oak has fallen, and has crushed beneath it his mate and his little ones!

"Wretched creature that I am!" he cries, anguish blotting out from him the light; "for my pride has fate so terribly punished me, and because I gave no heed to wise counsel. But could one expect that wise counsel could possibly come from a miserable Mole?"

Then from its hole the Mole replies: "Had not you despised me, you would have remembered that I burrow within the earth, and that, as I live among the roots, I can tell with certainty whether a tree be sound or not."



The Spider and the Bee

A Merchant brought some linen to a fair. That's a thing everybody wants to buy, so it would have been a sin in the Merchant if he had complained of his sale. There was no keeping the buyers back: the shop was at times crammed full.

Seeing how rapidly the goods went off, an envious Spider was tempted by the Merchant's gains. She took it into her head to weave goods for sale herself, and determined to open a little shop for them in a window corner, seeking thereby to undermine the Merchant's success.

She commenced her web, spun the whole night long, and then set out her wares on view. From her shop she did not stir, but remained sitting there, puffed up with pride, and thinking, "So soon as the day shall dawn will all buyers be enticed to me."

Well, the day did dawn. But what then? There came a broom, and the ingenious creatures and her little shop were swept clean away.

Our Spider went wild with vexation.

"There!" she cried, "what's the good of expecting a just reward? And yet I ask the whole world—Whose work is the finer, mine or that Merchant's?"

"Yours, to be sure," answered the Bee. "Who would venture to deny the fact? Every one knew that long ago. But what is the good of it if there's neither warmth nor wear in it?"



The Cuckoo and the Cock

"How proudly and sonorously you sing, my dear Cock!"

"But you, dear Cuckoo, my light, how smoothly flows your long drawn-out note! There is no such singer in all the rest of our forest."

"To you, dear friend, I could listen forever."

"And as for you, my beauty, I protest that when you are silent I scarcely know how to wait till you begin again. Where do you get such a voice?—so clear, so soft, so high! But no doubt you were always like that: not very large in stature, but in song—a nightingale."

"Thanks, friend. As for you, I declare on my conscience you sing better than the birds in the Garden of Eden. I appeal to public opinion for a proof of this."

At this moment a Sparrow, who had overheard their conversation, said to them:

"You may go on praising each other till you are hoarse, my friends; but your music is utterly worthless."

Why was it, that, not fearing to sin, the Cuckoo praised the Cock? Simply because the Cock praised the Cuckoo.



The Peasant and the Robber

A Peasant who was beginning to stock his little farm had bought a cow and a milk-pail at the fair, and was going quietly home by a lonely path through the forest, when he suddenly fell into the hands of a Robber. The Robber stripped him as bare as a lime-tree.

"Have mercy!" cried the Peasant. "I am utterly ruined. You have reduced me to beggary. For a whole year I have worked to buy this dear little cow. I could hardly bear to wait for this day to arrive."

"Very good," replied the Robber, touched with compassion; "Don't cry out so against me. After all, I shall not want to milk your cow; so I'll give you back your milk-pail."



FABLES FROM THE CHINESE

"Why have some more power than others? Only one knows. Why have some longer life than others? Only one knows. Why do some try and not succeed; while others do not try and yet they do succeed? Only one knows."

FABLES PROM THE CHINESE

The Animals' Peace Party

The ancient books say that the pig is a very unclean animal and of no great use to the world or man, and one of them contains this story:

Once upon a time the Horses and Cattle gave a party. Although the Pigs were very greedy, the Horses said: "Let us invite them, and it may be we can settle our quarrels in this way and become better friends. We will call this a Peace Party.

"Generations and generations of pigs have broken through our fences, taken our food, drunk our water, and rooted up our clean green grass; but it is also true that the cattle children have hurt many young pigs.

"All this trouble and fighting is not right, and we know the Master wishes we should live at peace with one another. Do you not think it a good plan to give a Peace Party and settle this trouble?"

The Cattle said: "Who will be the leader of our party and do the inviting? We should have a leader, both gentle and kind, to go to the Pig's home and invite them."

The next day a small and very gentle Cow was sent to invite the Pigs. As she went across to the pigs' yard, all the young ones jumped up and grunted, "What are you coming here for? Do you want to fight?"

"No, I do not want to fight," said the Cow. "I was sent here to invite you to our party. I should like to know if you will come, so that I may tell our leader."

The young Pigs and the old ones talked together and the old ones said: "The New Year feast will soon be here. Maybe they will have some good things for us to eat at the party. I think we should go."

Then the old Pigs found the best talker in all the family, and sent word by him that they would attend the party.

The day came, and the Pigs all went to the party. There were about three hundred all together.

When they arrived they saw that the leader of the cows was the most beautiful of all the herd and very kind and gentle to her guests.

After a while the leader spoke to them in a gentle voice and said to the oldest Pigs: "We think it would be a good and pleasant thing if there were no more quarrels in this pasture.

"Will you tell your people not to break down the fences and spoil the place and eat our food? We will then agree that the oxen and horses shall not hurt your children and all the old troubles shall be forgotten from this day."

Then one young Pig stood up to talk. "All this big pasture belongs to the Master, and not to you," he said. "We cannot go to other places for food.

"The Master sends a servant to feed us, and sometimes he sends us to your yard to eat the corn and potatoes.

"The servants clean our pen every day. When summer comes, they fill the ponds with fresh water for us to bathe in.

"Now, friends, can you not see that this place and this food all belong to the Master? We eat the food and go wherever we like. We take your food only after you have finished. It would spoil on the ground if we did not do this.

"Answer this question—Do our people ever hurt your people? No; even though every year some of our children are killed by bad oxen and cows.

"What is our food? It is nothing; but our lives are worth much to us.

"Our Master never sends our people to work as he does the horses and oxen. He sends us food and allows us to play a year and a year the same, because he likes us best.

"You see the Horses and Oxen are always at work. Some pull wagons, others plough land for rice; and they must work—sick or well.

"Our people never work. Every day at happy time we play; and do you see how fat we are?

"You never see our bones. Look at the old Horses and the old Oxen. Twenty years' work and no rest!

"I tell you the Master does not honour the Horses and Oxen as he does the Pigs.

"Friends, that is all I have to say. Have you any questions to ask? Is what I have said not the truth?"

The old Cow said, "Moo, Moo," and shook her head sadly. The tired old Horses groaned, "Huh, Huh," and never spoke a word.

The leader said, "My friends, it is best not to worry about things we cannot know. We do not seem to understand our Master.

"It will soon be time for the New Year feast day; so, good night. And may the Pig people live in the world as long and happily as the Horses and the Oxen, although our Peace Party did not succeed."

On their way home the little Pigs made a big noise, and every one said, "We, we! We win, we win!"

Then the old Horses and Oxen talked among themselves. "We are stronger, wiser, and more useful than the Pigs," they said. "Why does the Master treat us so?"

EE-SZE (Meaning): Why have some more power than others? Only one knows. Why have some longer life than others? Only one knows. Why do some try and not succeed; while others do not try and yet they do succeed? Only one knows.



The Proud Chicken

A Widow named Hong-Mo lived in a little house near the market place. Every year she raised many hundreds of chickens, which she sold to support herself and her two children.

Each day the Chickens went to the fields near by and hunted bugs, rice, and green things to eat.

The largest one was called the King of the Chickens, because of all the hundreds in the flock he was the strongest. And for this reason he was the leader of them all.

He led the flock to new places for food. He could crow the loudest, and as he was the strongest, none dared oppose him in any way.

One day he said to the flock, "Let us go to the other side of the mountain near the wilderness to-day, and hunt rice, wheat, corn, and wild silkworms. There is not enough food here."

But the other Chickens said, "We are afraid to go so far. There are foxes and eagles in the wilderness, and they will catch us."

The King of the Chickens said, "It is better that all the old hens and cowards stay at home."

The King's secretary said, "I do not know fear. I will go with you." Then they started away together.

When they had gone a little distance, the Secretary found a beetle, and just as he was going to swallow it, the King flew at him in great anger, saying, "Beetles are for kings, not for common chickens. Why did you not give it to me?" So they fought together, and while they were fighting, the beetle ran away and hid under the grass where he could not be found.

And the Secretary said, "I will not fight for you, neither will I go to the wilderness with you." And he went home again.

At sunset the King came home. The other Chickens had saved the best roosting place for him; but he was angry because none of them had been willing to go to the wilderness with him, and he fought first with one and then with another.

He was a mighty warrior, and therefore none of them could stand up against him. And he pulled the feathers out of many of the flock.

At last the Chickens said, "We will not serve this king any longer. We will leave this place. If Hong-Mo will not give us another home, we will stay in the vegetable garden. We will do that two or three nights, and see if she will give us another place to live."

So the next day, when Hong-Mo waited at sunset for the Chickens to come home, the King was the only one who came.

And she asked the King, "Where are all my Chickens?"

But he was proud and angry, and said, "They are of no use in the world. I would not care if they always stayed away."

Hong-Mo answered, "You are not the only Chicken in the world. I want the others to come back. If you drive them all away, you will surely see trouble."

But the King laughed and jumped up on the fence and crowed. "Nga-Un-Gan-Yu-Na" (cock-a-doodle-doo-oo) in a loud voice. "I don't care for you! I don't care for you!"

Hong-Mo went out and called the Chickens, and she hunted long through the twilight until the dark night came, but she could not find them. The next morning early she went to the vegetable garden, and there she found her Chickens. They were glad to see her, and bowed their heads and flew to her.

Hong-Mo said, "What are you doing? Why do you children stay out here, when I have given you a good house to live in?"

The Secretary told her all about the trouble with the King.

Hong-Mo said, "Now you must be friendly to each other. Come with me, and I will bring you and your King together. We must have peace here."

When the Chickens came to where the King was he walked about, and scraped his wings on the ground, and sharpened his spurs. His people had come to make peace, and they bowed their heads and looked happy when they saw their King. But he still walked about alone and would not bow.

He said, "I am a King—always a King. Do you know that? You bow your heads and think that pleases me. But what do I care? I should not care if there was never another Chicken in the world but myself. I am King."

And he hopped up on a tree and sang some war songs. But suddenly an eagle who heard him, flew down and caught him in his talons and carried him away. And the Chickens never saw their proud, quarrelsome King again.

EE-SZE (Meaning): No position in life is so high that it gives the right to be proud and quarrelsome.



The Hen and the Chinese Mountain Turtle

Four hundred and fifty years ago in Lze-Cheung Province, Western China, there lived an old farmer named Ah-Po.

The young farmers all said Ah-Po knew everything. If they wanted to know when it would rain, they asked Ah-Po, and when he said: "It will not rain to-morrow," or, "You will need your bamboo-hat this time to-morrow," it was as he said. He knew all about the things of nature and how to make the earth yield best her fruits and seeds, and some said he was a prophet.

One day Ah-Po caught a fine Mountain Turtle. It was so large that it took both of Ah-Po's sons to carry it home. They tied its legs together and hung it on a strong stick, and each son put an end of the stick on his shoulder.

Ah-Po said, "We will not kill the Turtle. He is too old to eat, and I think we will keep him and watch the rings grow around his legs each year." So they gave him a corner in the barnyard and fed him rice and water.

Ah-Po had many Chickens, and for three months the Turtle and Chickens lived in peace with each other. But one day all the young Chickens came together and laughed at the Turtle. Then they said to him, "Why do you live here so long? Why do you not go back to your own place? This small barnyard corner is not so good as your cave in the wilderness. You have only a little sand and grass to live on here. The servant feeds you, but she never gives you any wilderness fruits. You are very large, and you take up too much room. We need all the room there is here. You foolish old thing, do you think our fathers and mothers want you? No. There is not one of our people who likes you. Besides, you are not clean. You make too much dirt. The servant girl gave you this water to drink, and your water bowl is even now upside down. You scatter rice on our floor. Too many flies come here to see you, and we do not like flies."