Part 5

"Parson Prudence and Deacon Brindlebee came to my place last night and bought two sacks full of groceries. They said that Abraham and his wife seemed to be in need, and that they were going to bring some things over here and slip them into the room while Abraham slept, so that the heretics might be surprised in the morning. Now, this is the way they were paid for their kindness. Ladies and gentlemen, think also of that prayer and sermon. Was that a mere accident? I think not. The whole affair was planned. They were not satisfied with sacking, quilting and cording them. They must stretch them out upon the floor like sure-enough, night-prowling, dishonest thieves; and, while in that position, pray to the deacon the prayer that he has been budding and blossoming into length and boisterousness for the last twenty years. Then think of the parson in the same position, listening to the sermon on 'Patience,' when you know, ladies and gentlemen, as well as I, that the parson, with a very little vocal effort and a slight movement of his hands, has put three generations to sleep with that identical sermon. Let us look for the groceries, and, if found, take vengeance."

As the word "vengeance" was uttered the speaker's feet slipped into the barrel so far he had to be extracted. This showed the people where the groceries were. By this time the parson and deacon were on their feet and ready to state their side of the case.

"Hearing that Abraham and his wife were in hard lines," said the parson, "the deacon and I, as has been said, bought two sacks of groceries from the gentleman who has just spoken, intending to come together and slip them into this room. By some means we were separated, so I came alone; and, finding the household asleep, I crawled into that window and put the contents of this meal sack into the barrel yonder. I was surprised to find in it a large bag of money. All this time Abraham and his wife were asleep in this bed. Just as I straightened up to go two strong arms caught me, gagged me, sacked, and closeted me. I think, ladies and gentlemen, I have said enough to prove my innocence, and that of Abraham and his wife. There has been a mistake, somewhere, or the man with the strong arms was playing a winning game for himself."

The deacon came forth, and in a few words told his story, and ended by saying that the two strong arms that so lovingly handled the parson must have gagged, quilted, and imprisoned him.

Abraham and Ruth were ungagged and brought before the people. Their statement of the case at certain points was just like the parson's. They told how the stranger had been admitted, how he treated the ashcake, how he claimed kin, and, lastly, how they had trusted him with the money, and been deceived.

"Innocent! innocent!" shouted the people; "all here are innocent. The stranger alone is guilty. Is there nothing here by which he can be identified?"

"Here," said Abraham, "are his saddlebags and hat, with a name on the former that is doubtless his."

"He must be a strange thief indeed to leave behind him such telling witnesses as these," said the deacon.

"Ah," said the parson, "I fear there is still more mystery in this matter."

While the people were speechmaking and changing their opinions, the two officers who were the first to arrive and hear Abraham's story had been prowling over the farm. Just at this point they bore a man through the crowd and laid him on the floor where the deacon and parson had lain. He was gagged and corded after about the same fashion as they had been.

"Ah," said one, "the stranger has been playing gagging-binding master to another weakling."

"No, my man," said Abraham, "that is the stranger himself."

At this the mob seized the bound man and yelled: "Confess, confess! You shall confess!" They pulled him in and out of the closet. They lowered him into the cistern and hauled him out again and again. At times a hundred voices were bawling: "Confess, confess! You shall confess!" During all this confusion the parson was the only person who noticed that the poor fellow was still gagged.

"How can he confess," said the parson, "when he is gagged as daintily as a parson in a closet?"

They removed the gag, but not the cords.

"Gentlemen," said he, "if you are as ready to give me justice as I am to confess the truth in this matter, my part of the mystery will soon be cleared up and I can enjoy myself here with my uncle and aunt."

"Claiming kin again, Abraham," said Ruth. "Look out for your life next time."

"Strangle the hypocrite," said one.

"Give the impudent whelp a bath in the mill-pond," said another.

"No," said the parson, "let him confess."

"Gentlemen," said he, "I am innocent. If I stole the bag of money, why should I leave my saddlebags behind, with my name on them, and one side of which is full of money?"

The saddlebags were now examined by the crowd, and the stranger's statements found to be true.

"Then," said he, "why should I encumber myself this way? In fact, how could I? It would be impossible."

This somewhat appeased the crowd, until someone suggested that maybe he took the bag of money outside to hide it, intending to come back and get his own property; but as daylight overtook him he hired someone to gag and cord him in that way. On hearing this one man grabbed the prisoner by the foot and started to drag him to the cistern again. In so doing one boot was pulled off, out of which fell a picture.

"Here, Abraham," said Ruth, handing him the picture, "this may be all you will ever get for your bag of money."

Abraham took the picture and looked at it closely.

"Now, gentlemen," said the stranger, "a few more points, and I will have this mystery clear."

"You had better clear it quickly," said the crowd.

"Don't be too hard," said the parson. "Let him confess."

"Yes," said the stranger, "I am anxious to confess. This gentleman is really my uncle. He and my father have not met since I was born. Father and I agreed to pay him a visit. Since I have always been a funny chunk of humanity, father thought it might be well for me to come last night and twit uncle a little. He promised to arrive this morning. As I neared this house last night I saw two men standing close to the door, as though listening to what was going on inside. On seeing me they moved off at a brisk pace. Before knocking, I listened and heard Uncle Abraham and Aunt Ruth talking of their money, and what they intended to do with it the next day. Now, of course I thought the two men were listening to the same thing, and would be back in the night to rob them. After I had been admitted and had spoiled the ashcake--so that I could have a good excuse for giving them a nice little gift this morning for wronging them--and had gone to bed, it seemed I could see those two men trying to get into the house. Sleep fled my eyes; and, as I lay pondering what I would do in an emergency, I beheld the good parson here at the meal barrel. Thinking that he was one of the men I distrusted I slipped up behind him, and, after bundling him up in the fashion you beheld him, I tucked him into the closet. When the deacon came I treated him likewise, and rolled him into the cistern. The groceries they brought were put in the barrel. I could not account for this part of it, but now I see. Having disposed of the supposed robbers so nicely, Uncle Abraham put the bag of money in my keeping. Thinking I had nothing more to fear, I set the bag at my side and fell asleep. When I awoke a man was looking in the window through which the parson had climbed. As I heard no signs of another, I opened the door and grappled with him. While we were rolling over the ground a second man walked off with the money. I started to follow him, but my man clung to me so that I had to drag him a considerable distance before I could beat him off. In fact, he was so exhausted he did not rise for some time, to follow me. I caught up with the other fellow just as I neared the old well. He evidently thought I was his confederate. I said not a word, but lifted the bag from his shoulder and dropped it into the well. Seeing his mistake, he struck me a terrible blow that felled me to the ground. When I came to myself I was bound and gagged, just as these officers found me."

The crowd gazed at one another in unbelief, but decided, nevertheless, after some parley to proceed to the well to investigate the truth of the strange story the prisoner had to tell. Arrived there, a man was lowered into the well, and soon gave the signal to be drawn out, with the bag of money. Some of the crowd were still disposed to doubt the innocence of their captive. They claimed that he was one of the band, that the bag of money fell into the well by accident, and that he was beaten, bound, and gagged because he was too mean to go along with the others.

"In short," said one, "they left you here for an outraged people to dull their vengeance upon. Let every lover of justice help to string him up."

"Hold! hold," said Abraham. "This picture has a story to tell. There are two likenesses on here. One is that of a brother that I have not seen for thirty years, and the other is of the stranger here. Is this not sufficient evidence with what you have already heard? I think--guess--believe--that this is enough for---- Well, gentlemen, don't you think this is enough for me?"

"Yes," said a low-browed son of passion who was trying to put a noose around the stranger's neck, "it is enough to make this fit decently."

"Let the man have a chance to confess," cried out the parson and the deacon jointly.

"Let me have a chance to collar his neck with this noose," said the low-browed son of passion.

Then followed a struggle, in which the parson and the deacon seized the noose on either side of the fellow's neck, and kept it from being tightened. The struggle grew in intensity, so much so that none of the excited throng noticed a dignified old gentleman dismount and run up to the crowd. Abraham, standing to one side in the confusion, noted the old man's approach, gazed at him, and at once clasped him around the neck and cried: "My brother! my brother!"

Disengaging himself, and upon seeing the young man in his sorry plight, the old gentleman hurried forward crying: "My son! my son!"

The young man hearing the cry in the midst of the melee looked up and gasped, "My father! my father!"

By this time Abraham and the young man's father forced their way to the young man's side. The people fell back and scattered in all directions, leaving the young man almost exhausted. His bonds were at once cut, and he was put upon his feet and refreshed.

The young man was soon able to smile.

His Uncle Abraham and Aunt Ruth kissed him and commended his heroism.

Sometime later in the day the two real culprits were apprehended, and confessed their guilt, stating that they had overheard part of Abraham's conversation regarding the money when the young man's approach had led them to await a better hour. Thus were Abraham and Ruth vindicated; thus, too, were all doubts as to the young man's story laid at rest. Parson Prudence got the bag of money with which to buy the parsonage and bell, and Deacon Brindlebee was handsomely rewarded for his part in the comedy.

Ashcakes were never thought of again in that house, for Abraham's brother and nephew were rich, and they all lived as one family. The parsonage was erected. The bell was hung; and, as Abraham prophesied, the bell spread their fame above and the women who visited the parson's wife spread it below.

THE JACKAL AND THE LION[1]

AN AFRICAN FOLK-LORE TALE

The Jackal and the Lion were hunting in the jungle. "Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "the young elephant we seek is a good distance away. Well, it is not so far away either, but you see it will run around and around and in and out, and that will make the distance long. I see that you have a sore foot, and so long a journey might cost you your life. It would be a pity to lose your great head and pretty voice."

"It would, indeed," said the Lion. "I am glad to find someone who understands my worth."

"You see, Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "if I should get lost or killed the world would not miss me, but you, Brother Lion--you----!"

"Yes, Brother Jackal," broke in the Lion, "my place could not be filled; but do not take my greatness too seriously. You are worth a little, and that little should be saved."

"Brother Lion," continued the Jackal, "I would gladly give my whole self for your pleasure. You lie down here in the shade, keep cool and think great thoughts, while I take your spear and run down and kill the elephant that you have long desired to eat. When I have done so I will return and take you to it!"

"Very good," said the Lion. "You are kind and thoughtful. Take my spear and best wishes and be off. I can almost taste the feast now."

The Jackal took the spear, and in a short time had killed the elephant and covered the body with leaves. It then ran to another road, cut its finger and let the blood drip here and there for a great distance. Then it returned to the Lion and said: "Brother Lion, I almost lost my life in killing the elephant. Just go through yonder forest until you come to the straight road. By the elephant's blood you can trace it to the spot where it fell. As soon as I rest I'll be with you, I charge you now that to taste the meat before I come will mean death to you. This is a new law of the jungle."

The Lion went in search of the bloody path, and the Jackal returned to the elephant and began to eat. Now it happened that the Lion hurt his foot and, while binding it up, saw the Jackal eating and looking around.

When the Lion came up to the Jackal he said: "You little rascal, I have a notion to eat you for deceiving me."

"Be patient, Brother Lion; I am doing you a favor. Unless a Jackal eats of a young elephant first, its meat will kill a Lion. This is a new law of the jungle, and I am still in love with your great head and pretty voice. You remember I gave you a charge to this end."

"Yes," said the Lion, "I remember, and I thank you for saving my head and voice; but since you have tested the meat, what keeps me from eating my fill?"

"Just another new law of the jungle," said the Jackal. "This new law says that such meat must be put upon a high stone tower where the sun's rays may strike it. Then all may eat it unharmed."

"Oh, Brother Jackal," said the Lion, "how can I ever pay you for saving my head and voice?"

"In this way," replied the Jackal. "According to the law, my wife and children must be masons upon the wall, and you and yours must hand up the stones; and you see there are plenty of them about here. Of course, I remain on the ground to direct. I have told my wife and children, and they are coming. You go and bring yours."

"That suits me quite well," said the Lion. "I'll be back with mine in a short while."

When the Lion and his family had returned, the Jackal and his family had eaten half of the elephant and were dancing.

"You little rascal!" roared the Lion, "have you deceived me again?"

"Not a bit of it," replied the Jackal. "See that little bird lying dead there? That is the messenger of the new laws. By accident I killed it. The new law requires that the one who kills such a bird, and his family, must eat half the meat present as a punishment; and such a punishment as it has been! But for this new dance my wife invented we should all be dead. This means that you would be dead, too. The life of the Jackal in such a case goes into the bird. It becomes ten times as powerful as a Lion and kills everyone it meets. See?"

"I do," replied the Lion, "and thanks again for my head and voice. Let me remind you, Brother Jackal, that my wife and family are not likely to die at present from over-eating."

"Let me remind you, Brother Lion, that one more speech like that from you will put life into that bird, and you will never eat another dinner."

"Thanks, Brother Jackal, for your wisdom and kindness. Let's build the tower."

In a short time the tower was erected.

"How are we to get the meat up?" asked the Lion.

"Oh," said the Jackal, "my wife, who invented the dance, has invented a rope to pull the meat up with."

"I am glad to hear that, Brother Jackal," said the Lion, "for my wife, who is rather dull, may learn many things from yours."

"Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "when a Lion passes a compliment like that upon a Jackal's wife he had better roar it far and wide, or he will be counted a flatterer, and flattery puts life into that little bird."

The Lion roared the compliment until every beast in the jungle heard it. The Jackal's wife and children let down the rope and pulled the meat up.

"Brother Lion, there is one precaution we must take. That little bird lying there must never be allowed to come back to life, and there is but one way to do it."

"Brother Jackal, pray what is that?"

"Pick up that rock lying there by the bird. When my wife has pulled me to the top of the tower, throw it to me. If I catch it, the bird is dead forever. We will then pull you and your family up, and what a feasting there will be!"

"My dear Brother Jackal," roared the Lion, "you are all wisdom. Now you are up, and I am ready with the rock. Shall I throw it?"

"My dear Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "I am so high up I fear I shall not be able to catch it. There is one way to keep me from missing it. Put your wife right under my hands as I hold them out."

"She is there," called the Lion. "Now catch the rock." The Lion threw up the rock. The Jackal withdrew his hands, and it came back, striking the Lion's wife and almost killing her.

"You've killed Ma! you've killed Ma!" cried all the little Lions, and scampered off into the forest.

"That was a terrible mistake, Brother Lion," said the Jackal. "It was all your fault. You didn't ask me whether or not I was ready. That bird is coming to life! I feel it. Unless I can get you up here in five minutes it will be on wing and right after you. Now throw up the rock. That's right. I have it. Good for you. Here, wife, heat this rock and hand it back to me when I ask for it. You understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jackal," called the Lion, "hand your husband the rock when he asks for it, for that is indeed a precious rock."

The Jackal let down the rope, telling the Lion to tie it tightly around his body below the forearms. When this was done the Jackal began to pull the Lion up.

"Brother Lion," called the Jackal, "that little bird down there is moving."

"Sister Jackal," cried the Lion, "have you the rock?"

By this time the Jackal's wife was holding the rock with a pair of tongs, for it was very hot.

"That's right," shouted the Lion, "hold that rock carefully."

"That terrible bird!" mourned the Jackal.

"Ha, ha!" said the Jackal's wife, "I'll drop this hot rock into your mouth, and then how you'll kick and claw the air!"

She tried to drop the rock, but the tongs would not open. She then tried to drop both tongs and rock, but could not. The tongs soon began to burn her hands. In trying to throw them from her, she fell from the tower and killed herself.

The Jackal dropped the rope and so freed the Lion. The tower trembled and fell.

The little bird that the Jackal thought dead was the cause of the change. It was the spirit of the jungle and believed in fair play. It sang a sad song while the wife of the Jackal was being buried. It then sang joyously while the Lion and his wife and children, who had come back, ate the rest of the meat.

The Jackal was badly hurt and crippled by falling with the tower, yet he had to wait on the Lion and his family while they were feasting. And ever afterwards the Jackal was an outcast among animals, despised by all because of his evil and deceitful spirit.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] This story was told to me by a native African who was lecturing in this country.

THE KING'S SHOES

When King Mesina died his twin sons, Savo and Savoda, became joint heirs to the throne. This was according to the King's wishes. He thought, however, that as Savo was the older and meaner he might at some time rob his brother of his part in the kingdom. So he had placed in his will a clause to the effect that should this happen Savoda was to be the sole heir. Ere the people had ceased mourning for the King, Savo began to persecute Savoda. It mattered not what Savo did Savoda always had an excuse for him. In fact, he thought his brother angelic; and, hence, could do no wrong.

As the time for the coronation approached Savo more and more ignored and persecuted Savoda. At last he said: "Savoda, my servant, sit down in the corner and be as little as you really are while I, your king, conduct matters." Savoda obeyed with a smile upon his face, thinking that all things work together for good to him who is the son of a king and has an earthly angel for a brother.

Savo looked after the coronation in every part. He made all kinds of demands upon his people, and they gladly responded. He sent his leading captain to visit distant lands and bring back luxuries for the occasion. Everything progressed nicely until the captain returned with, as his sole cargo, an ugly dwarf.

This threw Savo into a rage. He had the captain seized, beaten and thrown into prison. When the dwarf was brought before him, he said: "Begone, human reptile! Go, dwell in the woods with your kinsmen."

"My body is small and weak, but by the power of wit shall I be remembered in the affairs of this kingdom," said the dwarf.

Savoda was still sitting in the corner, trying to smile, and to be small at the same time.

"You, sir," said Savo, pointing at Savoda, "are as impudent as this dwarf. Your stillness means plotting, and your smile means ridicule. You think that by your wit too you shall be remembered in the affairs of the kingdom? I'll see to that. My wisdom is a seine that holds fast to the big fish and crushes the minnows as they slip through. Minnow, sniff your fate. Well, you may have wit enough to dish out soup. Soldiers, to the woods with this abominable dwarf, and to the soup-house with this simpleton who dreams of being king."

After Savo had recovered from what he considered a very righteous indignation he sent for his trusty porter.

"Well, Porter," said he, "is everything ready for the coronation?"

"Everything is ready, my King, save your shoes; and to-morrow is the event. The dwarf you sent to the woods took them with him."

"Go quickly and have the same shoemaker turn your king out another pair on time."

"My king, there is no relief in that; for he went with the dwarf, and neither can be found."

"By the clearness of my conscience, is there not one other in all my vast domain that can so fit my feet that my wrath shall not be called upon to fit him?"

"There was one this morning, my King."

"Is he not now?"

"He is, my King."

"What is he doing?"

"He is shoeing his soul."

"Shoeing his soul? What mean you?"

"A shoe is used to cover something that very much needs to be covered. Is it not, my King?"

"It is."