The Giant Crab and Other Tales from Old India Part 3

He laughed loud and shrieked out, "Oh-oh-oh! Where's your feathers, Tell-tale t.i.t? Where's your feathers, Tell-tale t.i.t?"

Tweaky was only a parrot, you see, and was not always quite correct in his grammar, as you are.

"What do you mean?" asked the master.

But for a long time Tweaky would say nothing but the same words over and over again, "Where's your feathers, Tell-tale t.i.t?" However, by-and-by they heard the maid going to bed, tramp, tramp, tramp. Then Tweaky grew a little braver; and next time the master asked him what he meant, he replied:

"Every parrot has two eyes, Both the foolish and the wise; But the wise can shut them tight When 'tis best to have no sight.

Wisdom has the best of it: Where's your feathers, Tell-tale t.i.t?"

Then the master understood what had happened, for he was a very clever man; and without any delay he ran upstairs two steps at a time, and woke the maid, and made her dress herself, and turned her out of the house then and there. I wonder why he did not do it before, but that is no business of mine.

After that, poor Beaky never had the heart to talk again; but Tweaky, whenever he saw a bald-headed man, or a woman with a high forehead, shrieked out at the top of his voice--

"Ha! ha! ha! Where's your feathers, Tell-tale t.i.t?"

THE DISHONEST FRIEND

There was once a man who went on a journey, and he asked a friend to take charge of his plough till he should return. The friend promised to take great care of it. But no sooner was the man gone than he sold the plough and put the price in his own pocket. Was not that a mean trick to serve a friend?

The man came back, and asked his friend for the plough.

"Oh, I am so sorry," the friend replied; "my house is infested with rats, and one night a very big rat came and ate it up."

"Ah well," said the man, "what can't be cured must be endured! It must have been a very big rat, though."

"It was," said the other, "very big."

You must not suppose this man was quite such a fool as he seemed. You will soon see why he did not make a fuss about his plough.

Next day he took his friend's son out for a walk. When they had gone some distance he took the boy to another friend's house, and told this friend to keep the boy safe, but not to let him go out of the house till he returned.

Then he ran back to the boy's father.

"Where is my boy?" asked the father.

"Your boy? Oh, I remember--a hawk swooped down and carried him off."

"Oh, you liar! oh, you murderer!" said the friend. "Come before the judge, and then we shall see."

"As you please," said the man.

So they went to the court.

"What is your complaint?" asked the judge.

"My lord, this man took my son out for a walk with him, and came back alone, and now he says a hawk carried him off. He must have murdered the boy! Justice, my lord, justice!"

"What is this?" asked the judge sternly. "Come, my man, tell the truth."

"It is the truth, my lord," said the man; "he came with me for a walk, and was carried away by a hawk."

"Nonsense!" said the judge. "Who ever heard of a hawk carrying off a boy?"

"And who ever heard, my lord, of a rat eating a plough?"

"What do you mean?" asked the judge.

The man told his story. Then the judge saw that the man who complained had cheated his friend, and understood what was the reason of this little trick. So he said to the man whose son was lost:

"If you find the plough that was entrusted to you, perhaps your son may be found too."

The man was much annoyed at being found out, but, w.i.l.l.y nilly, he had to give the plough back. Then his son was brought back safe to him again. And he began to see that honesty is the best policy.

THE MOUSE AND THE FARMER

Once upon a time there was a Mouse, who made his hole in a place where there were thousands and thousands of golden sovereigns buried in the ground. Now there was a Farmer who owned the land where this treasure was buried; but he did not know about it, or else of course he would have dug it up. He often noticed the little Mouse sitting with his head peeping out of the hole, but as he was a very kind Farmer, he never hurt the Mouse; and now and then when he was having his own dinner, he would throw the Mouse a bit of cheese.

The Mouse was very grateful to the Farmer, and wondered what he could do to show it. At last he thought of the treasure; for this Mouse was sensible enough to know that Farmers are very pleased to get a golden sovereign now and again. So one day, as the Farmer went by the hole, Mousie ran out with a golden sovereign in his mouth, and dropped it at the Farmer's feet. You can imagine how glad the Farmer was to see a golden sovereign. Indeed, it was the first one he had seen since the Corn Laws were abolished. So he thanked the Mouse, and went down to the village, and bought him a beautiful piece of meat. After this the Mouse every day brought the Farmer a golden sovereign, and every day the Farmer gave him a big chunk of meat. Thus in a few weeks Mousie grew quite fat.

But the Farmer had a big black cat that used to prowl about watching for mice. It used never to notice the Farmer's own favourite Mouse while the Mouse was thin; but when he grew sleek and fat and shiny, Grimalkin (which was the Cat's name) lay in wait for him one day and pounced upon him. Poor little Mousie was terrified.

"Please don't kill me, Mr. Grimalkin!" said Mousie.

"Why not? I'm hungry and you are fat!"

"But, sir, if you eat me now, you'll be hungry to-morrow, won't you?"

"Of course I shall!" said Grimalkin.

"Well," said Mousie, who had suddenly thought of a plan; "if you will only let me go, I'll bring you a beautiful juicy piece of meat every day!"