Deccan Nursery Tales Part 1

Deccan Nursery Tales.

by Charles Augustus Kincaid.

PREFACE

These stories first appeared in the Times of India newspaper, and my acknowledgments are due to the editor for his courtesy in permitting their publication.

I have translated all of them as literally as possible from the original Marathi. But, owing to the difference between Marathi and English canons of taste, I have had in a very few places slightly to change the sense. In some places, owing to the obscurity of the original text, I have had to amplify the translation. In other places I have had to cut short the descriptions of Hindu rites and ceremonies so as to avoid wearying the English reader.

It may not be out of place to say just a word about the Indian G.o.ds mentioned in the stories. It must be remembered that the main Hindu G.o.ds are three in number. They are all sprung from a common origin, Brahma, but they are quite separate beings. They do not form a trinity, i.e. three in one or one in three. And each of them has a wife and a family. The following genealogical tree will, I hope, help the reader.

Brahma s.h.i.+va = Parwati Ganpati = the daughters of Agni Kartakswami [1]

Vishnu = Mahalaxmi Brahmadev = Saraswati

Of the above G.o.ds, s.h.i.+va, his son Kartakswami, and his wife Parwati, Vishnu and his wife Mahalaxmi only are mentioned in the following stories. Besides these, however, the Sun and Moon and the five princ.i.p.al planets obtain a certain amount of wors.h.i.+p. The Sun is wors.h.i.+pped every morning by every orthodox Hindu. And Shani or Saturn inspires a wholesome fear, for his glance is supposed to bring ill fortune. Then again, besides the main G.o.ds, the world according to Hindu belief, which in this respect closely resembles that of the ancient Greeks, is peopled with Asuras (demons), Devkanya (wood-nymphs), Nag-kanya (the serpent-maidens of Patala), and Gandharwas (a kind of cherubim). The first three of these find a place in the ensuing fairy tales.

The scientific doctrine is that s.h.i.+va is the destroyer and Vishnu the preserver of life, and that Brahmadev is the creative spirit. In practice, however, Brahmadev is almost entirely disregarded, while the Hindus wors.h.i.+p s.h.i.+va, Vishnu, Parwati, or Mahalaxmi just as they feel inclined, or as the particular sect to which they belong requires them.

Lastly, it must be borne in mind that the Hindu year consists of twelve lunar months. In the Deccan the year begins with Chaitra, corresponding roughly with April. The months then succeed each other in the following order: Vaishak, Jesht, Ashad, Shravan, Bhadrapad, Ashwin, Kartih, Margs.h.i.+sh, Paush, Mag, Phalgun, Each month begins on the first day of the new moon and is divided into two parts. The first half comprises the period from the new moon to the full moon. This is the bright half of the month. The second half comprises the period from the full moon to the new moon. This is the dark half of the month. The lunar months are made to correspond with the solar year by the interposition of an "adhik" or intercalary month every third year.

C.A.K.

CHAPTER I

The Sunday Story

When Englishmen and Englishwomen are little boys and girls, they listen with open ears to the tales of Golden-hair and the three Bears, of Cinderella and the Prince, and of the Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood. As the boys and girls grow up, the stories fade gradually from their minds. But a time comes when they have children of their own. And then, to amuse the children, they can find no tales more thrilling than those which fascinated them in their own childhood. Thus the old nursery tales are handed down for centuries from generation to generation. Exactly the same process goes on in India, There, too, when little Indian boys and girls grow up and have little boys and girls of their own, they too tell to wide-eyed audiences the tales which they themselves found so thrilling in their own childhood. Indian nursery tales, it is true, have a more religious tinge than those of Europe, but they are none the less appreciated on that account. The first six stories in this little book purport to explain the connexion between the heavenly bodies and the days of the week. So each day of the week has its separate tale. And all through Shravan or August, probably because it is the wettest month in the year, Deccan mothers tell afresh every week-day that day's story. And little Deccan children listen to the tales as they fall due with the same unvarying attention. For in nurseries, Indian as well as English, tales are loved the better when no longer new, and where the end is well known to, and therefore the better understood by, the tiny round-eyed listeners.

Now this is the tale which is told every Sunday [2] in Shravan: Once upon a time there was a town called Atpat, and in it there lived a poor Brahman. Every day he used to go into the woods to fetch sticks and to cut gra.s.s. One day he met there some nymphs and wood-fairies, who said that they were performing holy rites in honour of the sun. He asked, "What are these rites?" They replied, "If we tell you, you will become proud and vain and you will not perform them properly." But the Brahman promised, "No, I shall not become proud or vain and I shall observe the rites you tell me." They then told him that the month of Shravan was coming, and that on the first Sunday of Shravan he was to draw a picture of the sun with red sandal paste, that he was to offer to the drawing flowers and fruit, and that he should continue doing this for six months. Thereafter he should in various ways, which they told him, entertain guests and give alms to the poor.

The Brahman went home and performed the rites to the letter, so that the sun-G.o.d was very pleased. Wealth came to the Brahman and he grew richer and richer, and at last the queen of the land sent for him. The poor Brahman began to tremble and shake all over, but the queen said, "Do not shake or tremble, but give your daughters in marriage to our house." The Brahman said, "My daughters are poor; you will make them slaves or maid-servants." "No," said the queen, "I shall not make them slaves or maid-servants; I shall marry one to a king, and one to a minister." The Brahman agreed, and when the month of Margas.h.i.+sh, or December, came he gave his two daughters in marriage, one to the king and one to the minister. Immediately after the marriage the Brahman said good-bye to his daughters, and did not see them again for twelve years. Then he visited the elder one, who had married the king. She gave him a wooden stand on which to sit while eating, and water in which to wash his feet, and then said, "Papa, papa, there is pudding to eat, there is water to drink." But the Brahman said, "Before I eat or drink, I must tell you my story." But his daughter said, "Papa, I have no time to listen to your story; the king is going a-hunting, and I must not keep him waiting for his dinner." The Brahman thought this very disrespectful and went off in a great rage to the house of his other daughter, who had married a minister. She welcomed her father and gave him a wooden stand on which to eat, and water to wash his feet, and said, "Papa, papa, here is pudding to eat and here is water to drink." But the Brahman said, "Before I eat or drink I must tell you my story." His daughter said, "Of course, papa, tell it to me, and I shall listen as long as you like." Then she went into an inner room and she fetched six pearls. She took three herself and three she put in her father's hand. And he told her how he had met the nymphs and wood-fairies, who had told him to wors.h.i.+p the sun-G.o.d, and she listened to it all without missing a syllable. Then the Brahman ate and drank and went back to his own house. His wife asked him about their two daughters. He told her everything and said, "The elder one who would not listen to my story will come to grief."

And so she did. For the king, her husband, took an army into a far country and never came back. But the daughter who had listened to the story lived well and happy. As time went on the undutiful daughter became poorer and poorer, until one day she said to her eldest son, "Go to your aunt's house and beg of her to give you a present, and bring back whatever she gives you." Next Sunday the boy started and went to the village where his aunt lived. Standing by the village tank he called out, "O maids, O slave-girls, whose maids and slave-girls are ye?" They answered, "We are the maids and the slave-girls of the minister." The boy said, "Go and tell the minister's wife that her sister's son is here. Tell her that he is standing by the village tank, that his coat is tattered and that his garments are torn, and ask her to let him come into her house through the back door." The slave-girls took him in through the back door. His aunt had him bathed, and gave him clothes to wear, and food to eat, and drink, and a pumpkin hollowed out and filled with gold coins. As he left, she called to him, "Do not drop it, do not forget it, but take it carefully home." But as the boy went home, the sun-G.o.d came disguised as a gardener and stole the pumpkin filled with gold. When the boy reached his mother's house she asked, "Well, my son, what did your aunt give you?" He said, "Fortune gave, but Karma [3] took away; I lost everything my aunt bestowed on me." Next Sunday the second son went and stood by the village tank and called out, "O slave-girls and maid-servants, who is your master?" They said, "Our master is the minister." "Then tell the minister's wife that her nephew is here." He was taken in by the back door. He was bathed and clothed and given food and drink. As he was going, his aunt gave him a hollow stick full of gold coins and said, "Do not drop it, do not forget it, mind it carefully and take it home." On the way the sun-G.o.d came in the guise of a cowherd and stole the stick. When the boy got home his mother asked him what he had brought. He said, "Fortune gave, but Karma took away." On the third Sunday a third son went and stood by the village tank. His aunt received him like the others and had him bathed, clothed, and fed. As he was going away, she gave him a hollow cocoa-nut stuffed with gold coins and said, "Do not drop it, do not forget it, but mind it carefully and take it home." On the way back he put down the cocoa-nut on the edge of a well, and it toppled over and fell into the water with a great splash. When he reached his mother's house she asked him what his aunt's present was. He said, "I have lost everything which fortune brought me." On the fourth Sunday the fourth son went. His aunt welcomed him like the others, and had him bathed and fed. When he left she gave him an earthen pot full of gold coins. But the sun-G.o.d came in the guise of a kite and s.n.a.t.c.hed the pot away. When the boy reached home his mother asked him whether his aunt had given him anything. He said, "I have lost everything which my aunt gave me." On the fifth Sunday the mother herself got up and went to her sister's village and stood by the tank. The minister's wife took her in through her back door and had her clothed and fed. Then the minister's wife told her that all her trouble had come through not listening to her father's story, and the minister's wife repeated it to her. The king's wife listened to it, and stayed with her sister until the following month of Shravan, or August, when she did fitting wors.h.i.+p to the sun.

Instantly good fortune came to her. After years of weary fighting, her husband, the king, at last overcame his enemies, and after taking great wealth from them turned homewards with his army. As he went towards his capital, he pa.s.sed the village where the minister's wife lived. There he learnt that his queen was with her sister, so he sent for her with a befitting escort. "O auntie, auntie," cried all the queen's little nephews and nieces, "umbrellas have come for you, and horse-tails and guards and foot-soldiers." Every one rushed out to see, and the king and queen greeted each other after years of separation. The sisters gave each other gifts of clothes, and the king and his queen went away together. At the first halting-place the servants cooked the food. The queen filled the king's plate and then her own, and then she thought of the story which her sister had told her. She ordered her servants to go through the neighbouring village and bring in any one who was hungry and too poor to buy food. They found none such in the village, but on the way back they met a starving wood-cutter, and, bringing him to the queen, told him to listen to the tale which she would tell him. The queen brought six pearls. Three she gave to the wood-cutter, and three she kept herself. Then she told him the story of her father and the wood-fairies. The wood-cutter listened with all attention, and as he listened his f.a.ggot of wood became all of gold. He went away delighted, promising to wors.h.i.+p the sun in the way the wood-fairies had shown to the Brahman.

Next day the cavalcade reached the second halting-place. Food was cooked; the queen filled the king's plate and then her own plate, and again she told her, servants to bring from the neighbouring village any one who was hungry and too poor to buy food. They came upon a petty farmer, whose well had dried up and whose crops had withered. He was sitting sadly by his field when they called him to go with them and listen to the queen's tale. He went with them to the camp. There the queen brought six pearls and gave three of them to the farmer and kept three of them herself. Then she told the story of her father and the wood-fairies. And as the farmer listened, all attention, the water began to pour into the well, and the crop began to look fresh and green. He went away delighted, and promised to wors.h.i.+p the sun in the way the wood-fairies had told the Brahman. Next day the cavalcade reached the third halting-place. Food was cooked, and the queen filled the king's plate and then her own plate. Then she told the servants to search in the neighbouring village for any one who was hungry and too poor to buy food. They met an old woman. Her eldest son had been lost in the forest. Her second son had been drowned in a pond. Her third son had died of snake-bite. They told her to come and listen to the queen's story. She went with them, and as she listened, all attention, first the son who had been lost in the forest walked into the camp, next the son who had been drowned in the pond, and last of all the son who had died of a snake-bite. The old woman went away crying with joy, and promising to wors.h.i.+p the sun in the way the wood-fairies had instructed the Brahman. Next day the cavalcade reached the fourth halting-place. Food was cooked, and the queen first filled the king's plate and then her own. After dinner she sent her servants as before to bring in some poor and hungry man from the neighbouring village. They found a man whose eyes were so crooked that he could hardly see, who had no arms or legs, and who had not even a name. For he was only known as "Lump of flesh." He was lying on his face, but when they brought him into camp, the queen had him placed on his back and had a jug of water poured over him. Then she took six pearls. Three she kept herself, and three she placed on the stomach of "Lump of flesh." Then she told him the tale of her father and the wood-fairies. He listened, all attention, and as he listened his arms and legs grew out of his body, and hands and feet appeared at the ends of them. He too went away delighted, and he promised to wors.h.i.+p the sun in the way the wood-fairies had told the Brahman.

At the end of the next day's march the king and queen reached their home. Food was cooked, and as they sat down to dinner the sun-G.o.d himself appeared and joined them at their meal. The king had all the doors flung wide open, and ordered a fresh and far more splendid dinner to be prepared, with any number of dishes, each dish having six separate flavours. When it was served the sun-G.o.d and the king began to eat, but in the first mouthful the sun-G.o.d found a hair. He got very very angry, and called out, "To what sinful woman does this hair belong?" Then the poor queen remembered that during her twelve years of poverty she had always sat under the eaves combing her hair, and knew that it must have been one of her hairs which had got into the sun-G.o.d's food. She begged for mercy, but the sun-G.o.d would not forgive her until she had clothed herself in a black blanket, plucked a stick out of the eaves, and had gone outside the town and there thrown the stick and the hair over her left shoulder. Then the sun-G.o.d recovered his good-humour, and finished his dinner. And the Brahman, the king and queen, and the wood-cutter and the farmer whose well had dried up, and the old woman who had lost her children, and "Lump of flesh" with the cross eyes, they all remained in the favour of the sun-G.o.d and lived happily ever afterwards.

CHAPTER II

The Monday Story

Once upon a time there was a town called Atpat. In it there lived a very saintly king. One day he formed the wish to fill the shrine of s.h.i.+va, the moon-G.o.d, with milk up to the ceiling. He consulted his chief minister, and the latter sent a crier through Atpat ordering, under terrible penalties, all the townspeople to bring every Monday all the milk in their houses and offer it to the G.o.d s.h.i.+va. The townspeople were frightened at the threatened punishments, and the next Monday they brought all the milk in Atpat to s.h.i.+va's shrine, not keeping a drop for their calves or even for their children. But although all the milk in Atpat was every Monday poured into s.h.i.+va's shrine, it yet did not become full to the ceiling. But one day an old woman came to the shrine. She had done all her housework. She had fed all the children and had bathed all her little daughters-in-law. Then she took a few drops of milk, a little sandal-wood paste, and a few flowers, and half-a-dozen grains of rice and went to wors.h.i.+p at s.h.i.+va's shrine. She prayed to s.h.i.+va, "The little milk that I can offer is not likely to fill your shrine, seeing that all the milk offered by the king could not. Nevertheless I offer the milk with all my heart." She then got up and went back to her house. Then a strange thing happened. Directly the old woman turned her back, the shrine filled with milk right up to the ceiling. The priests ran and told the king, but none of them could say how it happened. The following Monday the king placed a soldier by the door; and again the old woman came and wors.h.i.+pped, and again the shrine filled with milk to the ceiling. The soldier ran and told the king, but could not explain the cause. The third Monday the king himself went and watched by the shrine. From his hiding-place he saw the old woman come up and noticed that the shrine filled with milk immediately after she had wors.h.i.+pped. He ran after her and caught her. The old woman begged the king to spare her life, and this he promised to do if she told the truth. She said, "O King! you ordered all the milk in Atpat to be brought to s.h.i.+va's shrine. But what was the result? All the calves began lowing and all the children began crying, because they could get no milk. And all the grown-up people were so worried by the noise that they did not know what to do. s.h.i.+va was displeased at this, so He would not let the shrine fill. This, therefore, is what you should do. Let the children and the calves have their milk. Then take whatever is over to the shrine, and it will at once fill up to the ceiling." The king let the old woman go, and had it proclaimed by beat of drum that the townspeople were to bring to the shrine on the following Monday only the milk remaining after the children and the calves had been fed. The townspeople were delighted. The children stopped crying and the calves stopped lowing, and all the milk left by them was brought to s.h.i.+va's shrine. The king prayed long and earnestly, and when he looked up he saw that the shrine was full right up to the ceiling. He gave the old woman a handsome present. And she went back to her home, and she did her housework, and then she bathed all her little daughters and all her little daughters-in-law.

CHAPTER III

The Tuesday Story

Once upon a time there was a town called Atpat. [4] In it there lived a bania who had no son. Every day a religious mendicant used to come to his house and call out, "Alms! Alms! In the name of G.o.d, give me alms." But when the bania's wife offered him alms he refused them, because she had no children. She told her husband, who advised her to play a trick on the mendicant. She hid behind her door, and as he called out "Alms! alms!" she slipped a gold piece into his wallet. But the mendicant caught her and became very angry. He cursed her and told her that she would always remain without any children. She was terrified and fell at his feet and begged for forgiveness. Then he pitied her and said, "Tell your husband to put on blue clothes, mount a blue horse, and ride into the jungle. He should ride on until he meets a horse. He should then dismount and dig in the ground. He will in the end come to a temple to Parwati. He must pray to her and she will bestow a child on him." When her husband came back she told him what had happened. So he at once put on blue clothes, mounted a blue horse, and rode into the forest. He met the horse, dismounted, and began digging. At last he discovered a temple to Parwati, all of gold, with diamond pillars and a spire made of rubies. Inside was a statue of the G.o.ddess, and to it he prayed, saying, "I have houses and cottages, cattle and horses, money and goods of all kinds, but I am very sad because I have no son." The G.o.ddess pitied him and asked, "Which will you have, a son who will be good but will die young, or a son who will live long but will be born blind?" The poor bania became greatly perplexed, but at last said, "I choose a son who will be good but will die young," The G.o.ddess said, "Very well. Step behind me. There you will find an image of Ganpati. Behind it is a mango tree. Climb upon Ganpati's stomach and pick one mango. Go home and give it to your wife to eat, and your wish will be gratified." Parwati then disappeared. The bania climbed upon Ganpati's stomach and ate as many mangoes as he could. He next filled a large bundle full of mangoes and stepped down. But when he reached the ground he found that there was only one mango in the bundle. He climbed up again and refilled his bundle, but when he stepped down he again found only one mango. This happened three or four times. At last Ganpati got very sore and angry with having his stomach trampled on. So he shouted out, "One mango is all you'll get. So be off home!" The bania was frightened out of his wits and galloped home with his one mango. His wife ate it, and in nine months she presented her husband with a son. When the little boy was eight years old his sacred thread was put on, and his mother said, "It is time to think of his marriage." But the bania said, "I dare not marry him unless he first makes a pilgrimage to Benares." His maternal uncle agreed to take the little boy to Benares.

So off they started together, and some days later the uncle and nephew halted at a village where some little girls were playing. One of the little girls said to the other, "You are nothing but a wretched little widow." But the other little girl said, "Oh no! there are never any widows in our family. Mother wors.h.i.+ps Parwati and so I can never be a widow." The uncle heard this, and thought that if his nephew could only marry a little girl who could not become a widow, he would not die young. So he began to think how he could bring about the marriage. Now it so happened that the little girl was to be married that day. But in the morning the boy to whom she was betrothed fell ill. Her parents were in great trouble, but at last they thought that, rather than postpone the wedding and disappoint all the guests, it would be better to marry their little daughter to the first traveller who pa.s.sed through the village. So they went to the rest-house to inquire if any one was there. There they found the uncle and nephew, and they married their little girl to the latter that very evening when the cows were homing. They drew on the wall a picture of s.h.i.+va and Parwati, and they put the children to bed beneath it. Parwati appeared to the little girl in her sleep. The G.o.ddess said, "My child, a snake will come to bite your husband: give it milk to drink. Then put near it a new earthen jar. When the snake has finished drinking, it will enter the earthen jar. Then at once pull off your bodice and stuff it into the jar's mouth. Next morning give the jar to your mother." Next evening everything happened as Parwati had said. The snake came to bite her husband as he slept. But the little girl offered it milk, which it drank. After drinking, it curled itself up inside the earthen jar, and, the moment it did so, the little girl slipped off her bodice and stuffed it into the mouth of the jar. Next morning her husband gave her a ring, and she in exchange gave him a sweet-dish, and he and his uncle continued their journey to Benares. When they had gone, the little girl gave the earthen jar with the snake inside it to her mother. The mother took out the bodice, but instead of a snake a garland lay inside, and the mother put it round her little daughter's neck. Some weeks pa.s.sed, but neither uncle nor nephew returned. So the little girl's parents grew anxious. The sick boy who was to have been her husband recovered, but she could no longer marry him, and the boy whom she had married had gone away and might never return. In despair the parents built a house, in which they entertained every traveller who pa.s.sed by, hoping that sooner or later one of the travellers would prove to be their daughter's husband. To all of them the mother gave water; the daughter washed their feet; her brother gave them sandal-wood paste; and her father gave them betel-nut. But it was all in vain; none of the travellers' fingers fitted the ring given to the little girl by her husband, nor could any of them produce the sweet-dish which she had given him in exchange.

In the meantime the uncle and nephew had reached Benares and had given large sums in charity, and had visited all the holy places and had received the blessings of all the Brahmans. One day the little boy, fainted. And in a dream he saw the messenger of Yama, the G.o.d of death, come close to him as if to carry him off. Next he saw the G.o.ddess Parwati come to his rescue and, after a struggle, drive away Yama's messenger. When the boy woke up he told the dream to his uncle. The latter was overjoyed because he felt certain that now the boy would no longer die young. He told his nephew to get ready, and next day they left Benares. On their way home they pa.s.sed by the village where the nephew had been married. As they were having breakfast near the village tank, a maid-servant invited them to come to the house which the girl's parents had built for the reception of travellers. At first the uncle declined, but when a palki was sent for them, he and his nephew entered it. When the little girl began to wash her husband's feet, she recognised him. She tried on the ring, which fitted his finger, and he in turn showed her the sweet-dish which she had given him. The parents were as pleased as possible, and they sent a messenger to invite the boy's parents. They came, and the boy's mother threw herself at her daughter-in-law's feet and thanked her for saving her son. Then there was a great feast and everybody was very happy indeed, and at the end they all wors.h.i.+pped Parwati, [5] so she became as pleased as everybody else.

CHAPTER IV

The Wednesday and Thursday Story

There was once upon a time a town called Atpat. In it there lived a prince who had seven sons and seven daughters-in-law. Every day there used to come to the prince's house two Brahmans, an uncle and a nephew. But when they asked for alms the daughters-in-law sent word that they were too busy to give them any. Some time afterwards the prince lost all his riches and became very poor. The two Brahmans again came to beg, but the elder daughter-in-law said to them, "We are no longer busy, but we have nothing to give you. If we had, we should give it to you." The youngest daughter-in-law, however, was a clever little girl, and she thought to herself, "The Brahmans will get very angry with us. When we had money, we gave them nothing; and now we give them nothing because we have nothing to give." So she fell at the elder Brahman's feet and said, "We have been very wicked and have deserved to become poor. But please forgive us and tell me how we may become rich as we were before." The elder Brahman said, "Every Wednesday and every Thursday you must invite a Brahman to dinner. And if you have no money to pay for the dinner, draw a pair of cow's feet on your money-box. If you want grain for the dinner, draw a pair of cow's feet on your corn-bin. Then wors.h.i.+p the feet and welcome the Brahmans. For you will find that you will have money in your box and grain in your corn-bin. And in time you will all get as rich as you were before." The little girl did what the Brahman told her. And whenever she invited Brahmans to dinner, she drew the cow's feet on the cash-box and on the corn-bin, and there was always money and grain sufficient for the meal.

But some days later she fell asleep and dreamt that Budh [6] and Brahaspati came to her bedside and said, "Little girl, little girl, your husband has been made king over a great country. Go to him, and, when you have found him, do not forget to wors.h.i.+p us and to give feast to the Brahmans." Then the little girl woke up and she told the other six daughters-in-law. But they were jealous of her, and they became very angry; and they kicked her so often and boxed her ears so hard that she forgot all about drawing the cow's feet on her money-box and on the corn-bin. So she never found any money in the box or any corn in the bin. And every day they became poorer and poorer. First all the men servants ran away, then the male members of the family left, and at last the seven daughters-in-law were left alone in the house. They were starving, but they did not know how to get any food. One day they heard that a king in a neighbouring country wished to construct a tank and was calling for labourers. So they decided to go to the tank and work there just like common coolie women. Now who do you think the king was? He was the youngest son of the prince of Atpat and the husband of the youngest daughter-in-law. When the prince had lost all his money, his youngest son left the house and set off on a journey. As he travelled he came to a city, the king of which had just died without leaving any children or relatives. His subjects did not know how to choose a successor. At last they gave a garland of flowers to a she-elephant and turned it loose. The elephant walked straight to the prince's son and put the garland round his neck. The townspeople were very angry. They s.n.a.t.c.hed away the garland and drove away the prince's son. They again gave the garland to the elephant, but the elephant again put the garland round the neck of the prince's son. The townspeople again s.n.a.t.c.hed away the garland. But when the elephant put it round the young man's neck for the third time, they lifted him high in the air and declared him to be their king. At first he was so pleased at being king that he forgot all about his poor little wife. But one night Budh and Brahaspati appeared to him in a dream and reminded him of her and told him how poor she was. But he could not leave his kingdom to go and look for her. So he thought that he would dig a tank and call together labourers from every quarter. And every day he used to go to the tank and search among the labourers to see if his wife was there. One day he recognised his wife and called her to him. Then they told each other how Budh and Brahaspati had appeared to each of them in a dream. And the king was so delighted at finding his wife that he at once proclaimed her queen of the country.

So the little daughter-in-law was crowned queen, but she did not let the other daughters-in-law who were also working at the tank know of her good fortune. As queen, she gave a great feast to all the workers on the tank. But in her own palace she took some wheat flour, and she kneaded it into shapes resembling human feet and human fists. And when the other daughters-in-law were with the crowd of workers eating at the feast, she went up to them, and to each daughter-in-law who had kicked her she gave a flour foot, and to each daughter-in-law who had struck her with her hands she gave a flour fist. Then the daughters-in-law recognised who the little queen was, and they fell at her feet and begged for her forgiveness. So the little queen forgave them and took them back with her into her husband's palace. And they all lived together happily ever afterwards.

CHAPTER V

The Friday Story

Once upon a time there was a town called Atpat. In it there lived a miserably poor Brahman. He had a wife who was as poor as he was. One day she felt her poverty so much that she went to a gossip of hers who lived close by and told her all about her troubles. The neighbour could suggest nothing better than that the poor woman should wors.h.i.+p the G.o.ddess Shukra or Venus. So she told the Brahman woman to fast every Friday through the month of Shravan. Every Friday evening she should invite a married lady friend to her house. She should bathe her friend's feet. She should give her sweetened milk to drink and fill her lap with wheat cakes and bits of cocoa-nut. She should continue to wors.h.i.+p Shukra in this way every Friday for a whole year, and in the end the G.o.ddess would certainly do something for her. The Brahman woman thought the advice good, and every Friday she wors.h.i.+pped Shukra and had a married friend to dine with her just as her neighbour had advised her.

Now the Brahman woman had a rich brother living in the same town, who one day invited one thousand Brahmans to dine. At the same time he invited all the townspeople with the single exception of his sister. The poor lady thought that she must have been left out by accident, and that there would be no harm in going, even although uninvited. She put on her silk dining-clothes, and, taking her children with her, went off to the dinner. She seated herself close to her children, and was eating away when her brother came round serving ghee. When he saw his sister he shouted at her, "You have neither nice clothes nor nice jewelry. You have made me a laughing-stock by coming as you have come. I shall not turn you out, but do not come to-morrow."

Next day she did not want to go, but her children, who had enjoyed the previous day's feast, persuaded their mother to take them again to her brother's house. Once more she went and sat down with her children among the rows of feasters. Her brother saw her as before when he came round serving the ghee. He shouted at her, "A beggar woman must, I suppose, act like a village sow, and will not go away although told to. But do not come to-morrow. If you do, I'll have you turned out." Next day, however, she again went with her children to her brother's house. But near the entrance his servants caught her and turned her out before she could eat anything. She went home sad and hungry and prayed to Shukra. Now the G.o.ddess had been pleased with her devotion and so took pity on her. She helped the poor woman's husband so that he rapidly acquired great wealth. When her husband had become very rich she asked her brother to dinner. But the brother remembered how he had treated her and was ashamed to accept. He pressed her to dine with him first, and begged so hard that she at last consented. Next day she put on all her jewels and her finest clothes. Her brother gave her a wooden platform to sit on and plates made out of leaves from which to eat her dinner. Before she sat down she took off her gold-embroidered shawl and put it close to her plate. Her brother saw her, but thought she did it because she felt the room hot. She then placed her jewelry on the wooden platform. Her brother thought that she did it because she felt the jewelry heavy. She took a portion of rice and placed it on her necklace. She put a portion of vegetables on her pendant, and a sweet ball she placed on her jewelled star.

Her brother at last asked her, "What are you doing?" She said, "I am giving to the guests whom you really invited." But he did not understand, and asked, "Why do you not begin to eat?" She said, "I have not been invited to this dinner. It was given in honour of my finery and not of me. I had my dinner the day when you gave the feast to the one thousand Brahmans."

The brother felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. He threw himself at his sister's feet and begged for her forgiveness. So she forgave him and sat down to dinner. And the brother in turn went to her house and dined with her. And Shukra was pleased with both sister and brother, and they all lived happily ever afterwards. May I and my readers do the same.

CHAPTER VI

The Sat.u.r.day Story