Chapter 2

So the Rabbit put on his fine coat, and got on the back of his horse, and rode off.

On the way, who should meet him but his friend the Monkey.

"Hullo!" says the Monkey, "where did you get all that finery?"

"The King gave it to me," says the Rabbit.

Says the Monkey, "And why should the King give all this to a fool like you?"

The Rabbit replied, "I, whom you call a fool, got it by sneezing under the King's golden throne; such a lucky sneeze, that the soothsayers prophesied to the King long life and many sons!" Then he rode away.

The Monkey fell a-thinking how nice it would be if he could get a fine coat and horse as the Rabbit had done. "I can sneeze," thought he; "what if I try my luck?"

So he scampered away, and away he scampered, till he came to the King's palace, and hid himself under the King's golden throne. When the King came in, and all his courtiers, in gorgeous array as before, our Monkey underneath the throne sneezed in the most auspicious manner he could contrive.

"Who is that?" thundered the King, glaring about him. "Who has the bad manners to sneeze in the King's presence?"

They searched about until they found the Monkey hidden under the throne, and hauled him out.

"What hast thou, wily tree-climber," asked the King, "that I should not bid the executioner cut off thy head?"

The monkey had no answer ready. At last he said, "O King, I have some plantain-peel and pellets of paper." But the King was angry at this, and the greedy Monkey was led away, and his head was cut off.

The Sparrow's Revenge

ONCE there was a pair of Sparrows that were very fond of each other, and lived in a nest together as happy as the day was long. The hen laid eggs and sat upon them, and the cock went about picking up food for them both, and when he had got food enough, he sat on a twig close by the nest, and twittered for joy.

But it happened one day that a boy saw Cock Sparrow pecking at some seeds, and he picked up a stone and threw it at him, and killed him. So no food came home that morning, and Hen Sparrow grew anxious, and at last set out to find him.

In a little while she found his dead body lying in a ditch. She ruffled up her feathers and began to cry. "Who can have killed him?" she said; "my poor kind husband, who never did harm to any one." Then a Raven flew down from a tree, where he had been sitting, and told her how a cruel boy had thrown a stone at him and killed him for sport. He saw it, said the Raven, as he was sitting on the tree.

Now Hen Sparrow determined to have her revenge. She was so much troubled that she left her eggs to hatch themselves, or to addle if they would; and gathering some straw, she plaited it into a beautiful straw carriage, with two old cotton-reels for wheels, and sticks for the shafts. Then she went to the hole of a Rat who was a friend of hers, and called down the hole, "Mr. Rat! Mr. Rat!"

"Yes, Mrs. Sparrow," said the Rat, coming out of the hole and making a polite bow.

"Some one has thrown a stone at my husband and killed him. Will you help me to get my revenge?"

"Why," said the Rat, "how can I help you?"

"By pulling me along in my carriage," said Mrs. Sparrow.

"Oh yes," said the Rat; "that I will." So he went down into his hole again, and washed his face, and combed his whiskers, and came up all spick and span.

Mrs. Sparrow tied the shafts of the straw carriage to the Rat, and Mrs. Sparrow got in, and off they went.

On the road they met a Scorpion. Said the Scorpion--

"Whither away, Mrs. Sparrow and Mr. Rat?"

Said the Hen Sparrow, "My friend Mr. Rat is pulling me along in my carriage of straw to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone at my husband and killed him."

"Quite right too," said the Scorpion. "May I come and help you? I have a beautiful sting in my tail."

"Oh, please do! come and get in," said the Sparrow.

In got the Scorpion, and away they went. By-and-by they saw a Snake.

"Good day, and God bless you," says the Snake. "Where are you going, may a mere reptile ask?"

"Mr. Scorpion and I are going to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone and killed my husband."

"Shall I come and help you?" asked the Snake. "I have fine teeth in my head to bite with."

"The more the merrier," replied Mrs. Sparrow. So in he got. They had not gone far before who should meet them but a Wolf.

"Hullo," says the Wolf gruffly; "where are you off to, I should like to know?"

"Mr. Rat is kind enough to draw me in my carriage, and we are all going to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone and killed my poor husband."

"May I come too?" growled the Wolf. "I can bite." He opened his big jaws and snarled.

"Oh, how kind you are!" said Mrs. Sparrow. "Do come! jump in, jump in!"

The poor Rat looked aghast at such a load to pull; but he was a gentlemanly Rat, and so, having offered to pull the carriage, he said nothing.

So the big Wolf got in, and nearly sat on the Scorpion's tail; if he had, he wouldn't have sat long, I think. However, the Scorpion got out of the way, and on they went all four, the poor Rat pulling with all his might, but rather slow at that.

In due time they arrived at the cruel boy's house. His mother was cooking the dinner, and his father was fast asleep in a chair. There was a river close by the house, and the Wolf went down to the river, and hid himself there; the Snake crawled among the peats, and the Scorpion began to climb up into the chair where the man was sleeping.

Then Mrs. Hen Sparrow flew in at the door and twittered--

"Little boy! Little boy! There's a fish biting at your night-line!"

Up jumped the boy, and out he ran, to look at the night-line. But as he was stooping down and looking at the line to see if any fish were hooked, the Wolf pounced upon him, and bit him in the throat, and he died.

Then the cruel boy's mother went out to get some peats, and as she put her hand in amongst them, the Snake bit her, and she gave a shriek and fell down and died. The shriek awoke her husband sleeping in his chair, and he began to get up, but by this time the Scorpion had climbed up the leg of the chair, so he stung the man, and the man died too.

Thus there was an end of the cruel boy who killed a harmless Sparrow for sport; and though his father and mother had done nothing, yet they ought not to have had a son so cruel, or, at least, they might have brought him up better. Anyhow, die they did, all three; and Mrs. Hen Sparrow was so delighted that she forgot all about her dead husband, and forgot her eggs which were getting addled, and went about chirruping until she found another husband, and made another nest, and (I am sorry to say) lived happily ever after.

The Judgment of the Jackal

A MERCHANT was returning home from a long journey, riding upon a mule. As he drew near home, night overtook him; and he was forced to look out for shelter. Seeing a mill by the roadside, he knocked at the door.

"Come in!" said the Miller.

"May I stay here for the night?" asked the Merchant.

"By all means," said the Miller, "if you pay me well."

The Merchant thought this rather mean; because in those days a stranger was made welcome everywhere without paying anything. However, he made the best of it, and came in. The Miller led off his mule to the stable.

"Please take care of my mule," said the Merchant; "I have still a long way to go."

"Oh," said the Miller, "your mule will be all right." Then he rubbed him down and fed him.

In the morning the Merchant asked for his mule.

"I am very sorry," said the Miller; "he must have got loose last night, and I can't find him anywhere."

The Merchant was much dismayed. He went out to look for himself, and there, to be sure, was his mule, tied by the halter to the mill.

"Why, look here, Miller," says he, "here is the mule!"

"Oh no," says the Miller, "that mule is mine."

"Yours?" said the Merchant, getting angry. "Last night your stable was empty. And don't you think I know my own mule?"

"That is mine," said the Miller again; "my mill had a young mule in the night, and that is he."

The Merchant was now very angry indeed; but he could not help himself, as he did not want to fight; he was a very peaceful Merchant. So he said--

"Well, I have no doubt it's all right; but just to satisfy me, let us ask the Rev. Dr. Jackal to decide between us; and whatever he says I will abide by."

"Very good," answered the Miller; and away they went to the den of his reverence the Jackal. Dr. Jackal was sitting with his hind legs crossed, and smoking a hubble-bubble.

"Good morning, worthy gentlemen," said the Jackal; "how can I serve you?"

Said the Merchant, "Last night, my Lord Judge, I lodged with this Miller here, and he took charge of my mule; but now he says it has run away, though I saw it with my own eyes tied by the halter to his mill. He says that the mule I saw is his, and that his mill is the mother of it, and that it was born last night while I was asleep."

"Go back to the mill," said the Jackal, "and wait for me. I will just wash my face, and then I'll settle your business."

They went away, and waited a long time, but no Jackal. Late in the afternoon, they got tired of waiting for the Jackal, and determined to go and look for him. There he was still, sitting in his den and smoking a hubble-bubble.

"Why didn't you come?" asked the Miller. "We have been waiting for you all day."

"Oh, my dear sir, I was too busy," said the Jackal. "When I went to wash my face, I found that all the water had caught fire; I have only just put it out."

"You must be mad, your reverence," said the Miller. "Who ever heard of water catching fire?"

"And who ever heard," replied the Jackal, "of a mill having a young mule?"

The Miller saw that he was found out, and was so much ashamed that he gave back the mule to its owner, and the Merchant went home.

How the Mouse got into his Hole

A MERCHANT was going along the road one day with a sack of peas on the back of an Ox. The Ox was stung by a Fly, and gave a kick, and down fell the sack. A Mouse was passing by, and the Merchant said, "Mousie, if you will help me up with this sack I will give you a pea." The Mouse helped him up with the sack and got a pea for his trouble. He stole another, and a third he found on the road.

When he got home with his three peas he planted them in front of his hole. As he was planting them he said to them, "If you are not all three sprouting by to-morrow I'll cut you in pieces and give you to the black Ox." The peas were terribly frightened, and the next morning they had already begun to sprout, and each of them had two shoots. Then he said, "If I don't find you in blossom to-morrow I'll cut you in pieces and give you to the black Ox." When he went to look next day they were all in blossom. So he said, "If I don't find ripe peas on you to-morrow I'll cut you in pieces and give you to the black Ox." Next day they had pods full of ripe peas on them.

So every day he used to eat lots of peas, and in this manner he got very fat. One day a pretty young lady Mouse came to see him.

"Good morning, Sleekie," said she; "how are you?"

"Good morning, Squeakie," said he; "I'm quite well, thank you."

"Why, Sleekie," said she, "how fat you are."

"Am I?" said he. "I suppose that's because I have plenty to eat."

"What do you eat, Sleekie?" asked the pretty young lady Mouse.

"Peas, Squeakie," said the other.

"Where do you get them, Sleekie?"

"They grow all of themselves in my garden, Squeakie."

"Will you give me some, please?" asked the lady Mouse.

"Oh yes, if you will stay in my garden, you may have as many as you like."

So Squeakie stayed in Sleekie's garden, and they both ate so many peas that they got fatter and fatter every day.

One day Squeakie said to Sleekie, "Let's try which can get into the hole quickest." Squeakie was slim, and she had not been at the peas so long as Sleekie, so she got into the hole easily enough; but Sleekie was so fat that he could not get in at all.

He was very much frightened, and went off in hot haste to the Carpenter, and said to him, "Carpenter, please pare off a little flesh from my ribs, so that I can get into my hole."

"Do you think I have nothing better to do than paring down your ribs?" said the Carpenter angrily, and went on with his work.

The Mouse went to the King, and said, "O King, I can't get into my hole, and the Carpenter will not pare down my ribs; will you make him do it?"

"Get out," said the King; "do you think I have nothing better to do than look after your ribs?"

So the Mouse went to the Queen. Said he, "Queen, I can't get into my hole, and the King won't tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs. Please divorce him."

"Bother you and your ribs," said the Queen; "I am not going to divorce my husband because you have made yourself fat by eating too much."

The Mouse went to the Snake. "Snake, bite the Queen, and tell her to divorce the King, because he will not tell the Carpenter to pare my ribs down and let me get into my hole."

"Get away," said the Snake; "or I'll swallow you up, ribs and all; the fatter you are, the better I shall be pleased."

He went to the Stick, and said, "Stick, beat the Snake, because she won't bite the Queen, who won't divorce the King and make him tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"Off with you," said the Stick; "I'm sleepy, because I have just beaten a thief; I can't be worried about your ribs."

He went to the Furnace, and said, "Furnace, burn the Stick, and make it beat the Snake, that he may bite the Queen and make her divorce the King, who won't tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"Get along with you," said the Furnace; "I am cooking the King's dinner, and I have no time now to see about your ribs."

He went to the Ocean, and said, "Ocean, put out the Fire, and make it burn the Stick, so that it may beat the Snake, and the Snake may bite the Queen, and she may divorce the King, who won't tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"Don't bother me," said the Ocean; "it's high tide, and all the fishes are jumping about, and giving me no rest."

He went to the Elephant, and said, "O Elephant, drink up the Ocean, that it may put out the Fire, and the Fire may burn the Stick, and the Stick may beat the Snake, and the Snake may bite the Queen, and the Queen may divorce the King, and make him tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"Go away, little Mouse," said the Elephant; "I have just drunk up a whole lake, and I really can't drink any more."

He went to the Creeper, and said, "Dear Creeper, do please choke the Elephant, that he may drink up the Ocean, and the Ocean may put out the Fire, and the Fire may burn the Stick, and the Stick may beat the Snake, and the Snake may bite the Queen, and the Queen may divorce the King, and the King may tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"Not I," says the Creeper; "I am stuck fast here to this tree, and I couldn't get away to please a fat little Mouse."

Then he went to the Scythe, and said, "Scythe, please cut loose the Creeper, that it may choke the Elephant, and the Elephant may drink up the Ocean, and the Ocean may put out the Fire, and the Fire may burn the Stick, and the Stick may beat the Snake, and the Snake may bite the Queen, and the Queen may divorce the King, and the King may tell the Carpenter to pare down my ribs, and let me get into my hole."

"With pleasure," said the Scythe, who is always sharp.

So the Scythe cut the Creeper loose, and the Creeper began to choke the Elephant, and the Elephant ran off and began to drink up the Ocean, and the Ocean began to put out the Fire, and the Fire began to burn the Stick, and the Stick began to beat the Snake, and the Snake began to bite the Queen, and the Queen told the King she was going to divorce him, and the King was frightened, and ordered the Carpenter to pare Sleekie's ribs, and at last Sleekie got into his hole.

King Solomon and the Owl

ONCE King Solomon was hunting all alone in the forest. Night fell, and King Solomon lay down under a tree to sleep. Over his head, on the branch of a tree, sat a huge Owl; and the Owl hooted so loud and so long, Too-whit too-woo! Too-whit too-woo! that Solomon could not sleep. Solomon looked up at the Owl, and said--

"Tell me, O Owl, why do you hoot all night long upon the trees?"

Said the Owl--

"I hoot to waken those that sleep, As soon as day's first beams do peep; That they may rise, and say their prayers, And not be caught in this world's cares."

Then he went on again, Too-whit! too-woo! shaking his solemn old head to and fro. He was a melancholy Owl; I think he must have been crossed in love.

Solomon thought this Owl very clever to roll out beautiful poetry like that, off-hand as it were. He asked the Owl again--

"Tell me, O wise Owl, why do you shake your very solemn old head?"

Said the Owl--

"I shake my head, to let all know This world is but a fleeting show. Men's days are flying with quick wings; So take no joy in earthly things.

"Yet men will fix their hearts below Upon the pleasures that must go. Their joy is gone when they are dead; And that is why I shake my head."

This touched King Solomon in a tender place, for he was himself rather fond of earthly delights. He sighed, and asked again--

"O most ancient and wise Owl! tell me why you never eat grain?"

Answered the Owl--

"The bearded grain I do not eat, Because, when Adam ate some wheat, He was turned out of Paradise: So Adam's sin has made me wise.

"If I should eat a single grain, The joys of heaven I should not gain. And so, to keep my erring feet, The bearded grain I never eat."

Thought Solomon to himself, "I don't remember reading that story in Genesis, but perhaps he is right. I must look it up when I get home." Then he spoke to the Owl once more, and said--

"And now, good Owl, tell me why you drink no water at night?"

Said the Owl--

"Since water all the world did drown In Noah's day, I will drink none. Were I to drink a single drop, My life would then most likely stop."

Solomon was delighted to find the Owl so wise. "O my Owl," said he, "all my life long I have been looking for a counsellor who had reasons to give for what he did; I have never found one until I found you. Now I beg you to come home with me to-morrow, and you shall be my chief counsellor, and whatever I purpose I will first ask your advice."

The Owl was equally delighted, and said, "Thank you." Thinking of the greatness that was to be his, the Owl stopped crying Too-whit! too-woo! and Solomon went to sleep.

The Camel's Neck

ONCE upon a time there was a very religious Camel; at least, he was religious after the fashion of his country, that is, he used to mortify his flesh by fasting, and scratch himself with thorns, and lie awake all night meditating upon the emptiness of the world. That is what men used to do in that country, in order to please their gods. One of these gods was very much pleased with the piety of the Camel; so one night, as the Camel was fasting, and saying over and over to himself, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity," the god appeared before him. He was a curious-looking god, and he had four hands instead of two; but the Camel did not mind that, nor did he laugh; on the contrary, he went down on his knees and bowed before him.

"O Camel," said this god, "I have seen your fasting and heard your prayers; and I have come to reward you. Choose what boon you like, and it shall be yours."

"O mighty god, I should like to have a neck eight miles long."

The god answered, "Be it so!" and immediately the Camel felt his neck shooting out like a telescope, until it was eight miles long. It shot out so fast, that the Camel found it hard to escape running his head against the trees. However, he steered it successfully, barring a bump or two; and as by the time his neck stopped growing he was far out of sight of the god, he could not even say thank you.

Now perhaps you will wonder why this Camel wanted a neck so long as eight miles? I will tell you. The reason was, that for all his fastings and penances, he was a lazy Camel, and he wanted to graze without the trouble of walking about. And now he could easily graze for a distance of eight miles all round in a circle, without moving from the spot where he lay. But it was rather dangerous, though he thought nothing of that; for when his head was grazing a few miles away, the hunters might stick a spear into his body, or tie his legs together, without his seeing them.

All the summer the Camel had a fine time of it; he lay still and comfortable and sent his head foraging around, and strange to say, no harm happened to him. But before long the rainy season began. In the rainy season there are storms every day, and it rains cats and dogs. So when the rain began, the Camel wanted to keep dry, but he could not at first find a shed or a shelter eight miles long, or anything like it. At last he lit on a long winding cave that held most of his long neck. So he ran his neck into the cave, and lay still, with the rain pouring upon his body.

This was bad enough, but worse was to come. For it happened that in this cave lived a He-jackal and a She-jackal.

When the Jackals saw this extraordinary neck winding along their cave, they were frightened, and hid away.

"What is this snake?" said the He-jackal to his wife.

"Oh dear, I don't know!" whimpered his wife, "I never saw a snake like this."

They kept quiet, the head passed out of view into the inner part of the cave; then after a while, the creature lay still.

"Let us smell him!" said the He-jackal.

They smelt him. "He smells nice," said the She-jackal; "not a bit like a snake."

"Let us taste him!" said the He-jackal.

They took a bite; the Camel stirred restlessly. They took another bite, and liked that better still. They went on biting. The Camel curled round his head to see what was going on; but before the Camel's head could get back more than a mile or two, he grew so weak from loss of blood, that he could move no more, and he died.

So died the idle Camel, because the god granted him his foolish wish. Perhaps our wishes are often just as foolish, if we only knew it; and perhaps if they were fulfilled they would be the bane of us, as happened to the lazy and religious Camel.

The Quail and the Fowler

A FOWLER once caught a Quail. Said the Quail to the Fowler--

"O Fowler, I know four things that will be useful for you to know."

"What are they?" asked the Fowler.

"Well," said the Quail, "I don't mind telling you three of them now. The first is: Fast caught, fast keep; never let a thing go when once you have got it. The second is: He is a fool that believes everything he hears. And the third is this: It's of no use crying over spilt milk."

The Fowler thought these very sensible maxims. "And what is the fourth?" he asked.

"Ah," said the Quail, "you must set me free if you want to hear the fourth."

The Fowler, who was a simple fellow, set the Quail free. The Quail fluttered up into a tree, and said--

"I see you take no notice of what I tell you. Fast caught, fast keep, I said; and yet you have let me go."