The Giant Crab and Other Tales from Old India Part 4

This was a tempting offer for Grimalkin, who was a lazy Cat, and liked sitting by the fire, and licking himself all over, better than hunting for mice.

"All right," said he; "only if you leave out one day, you're a dead mouse!" Then, with a frightful spit, bristling up all his whiskers and eyebrows, Grimalkin ran away.

So next day, when the Farmer gave Mousie his dinner, Mousie carried it off to the black Cat, and the black Cat spat and swore and ate it up, and away ran Mousie trembling. But by degrees Mousie grew thinner and thinner, because Grimalkin always had his dinner; and soon he was nothing but skin and bone. Then the Farmer noticed how thin his Mouse had become, so one day he asked the Mouse whether he was ill.

"No," said Mousie, "I'm not ill."

"What is the matter, then?" asked the Farmer.

"I never get any dinner now," said Mousie, with tears running down over his nose, "because Grimalkin eats it all!" Then he told the Farmer about the bargain he had made with Grimalkin.

Now the Farmer had a beautiful piece of gla.s.s, with a hole in the middle. I think it was an inkstand, but I am not sure. So he took this piece of gla.s.s and put Mousie inside it, and turned it upside down upon the ground in front of Mousie's hole. "Now," said he, "next time Grimalkin comes for your dinner, tell him you have none for him, and see what will happen."

So next day up comes Grimalkin for his dinner, spitting and looking very fierce.

"Meat! meat!" says he to the Mouse.

"Get off, vile thief!" says Mousie, "I've no meat for the likes of you!"

At this Grimalkin could hardly believe his ears. He was in a rage, I can tell you; and, without stopping to think, pounced upon Mousie, and swallowed him, inkstand and all. You see, as it was all gla.s.s, Grimalkin did not know that there was any inkstand there, because he saw the Mouse through it.

Now cats can digest a good deal, but they can't digest a gla.s.s inkstand. So Grimalkin, when he had swallowed the Mouse and the inkstand, felt a pain inside; and this got worse and worse, until at last he died. And then Mousie crept out of the inkstand, and crawled up through Grimalkin's throat, and went back to his hole again. And there he lived all his life in happiness, every day bringing a golden sovereign to the Farmer, who gave him every day a beautiful dinner of meat.

THE TALKATIVE TORTOISE

Once upon a time there was a Tortoise that lived in a pond. He was a most worthy Tortoise, but he had one fault, he would talk in season and out of season; all day long it was chatter, chatter, chatter in that pond, until the fish said that they would rather live on dry land than put up with it any longer.

But the Tortoise had two friends, a pair of young Geese, who used to fly about near the pond in search of food. And when they heard that things were getting hot for the Tortoise in that pond, because he talked so much, they flew up to him and cried eagerly:

"Oh, Tortoise! do come along with us! We have such a beautiful home away in the mountains, where you may talk all day long, and n.o.body shall worry you there!"

"All very well," grumbled the Tortoise, "but how am I to get there? I can't fly!"

"Oh, we'll carry you, if you can only keep your mouth shut for a little while."

"Yes, I can do that," says he, "when I like. Let us be off."

So the Geese picked up a stout stick, and one Goose took one end in her bill and the other Goose took the other end, and then they told the Tortoise to get hold in the middle; "only be careful," said they, "not to talk."

The Tortoise set his teeth fast on the stick, and held on like grim death, while the Geese, flapping their strong wings, rose in the air and flew towards their home.

All went well for a time. But it so happened that some boys were looking up in the air, and were highly amused by what they saw.

"Look there!" cried one to the rest, "two Geese carrying a Tortoise on a stick!"

The Tortoise on hearing this was so angry that he forgot all about his danger, and opened his mouth to cry out: "What's that to you? Mind your own business!" But he got no farther than the first word; for when his mouth opened he loosed the stick, down he dropped, and fell with a crash on the stones.

The talkative Tortoise lay dead, with his sh.e.l.l cracked in two.

THE MONKEYS AND THE GARDENER

Once upon a time there was a beautiful park, full of all manner of trees and shrubs, with beds of flowers set here and there, and no end of fruit-trees. A gardener used to take care of this park; pruning the trees when they made too much wood, and digging the ground, and watering the flowers in dry weather.

It happened that there was a fair to be held away in the city, and the gardener very much wanted to go. But who would take care of the park and garden? If his master came in and found all the flowers drooping or dead, what would he say then! It would never do.

Meditating thus, and in doubt, he looked up into the branches of the trees, and a bright thought struck him. I must tell you that in this park there were not only herds of deer, and plenty of rabbits and other creatures that usually live in parks, but there were troops of monkeys in the trees, who climbed and chattered and cracked nuts all day long, with no lessons to do. And when the gardener cast up his eyes to the trees, he saw some monkeys that he knew very well indeed. Many a time he had been kind to them; and now he thought they should do the like by him, as one good turn deserves another.

So the gardener called out, "Monkeys, I want you!"

Down they all clambered, and in a very short time they were sitting beside him on the gra.s.s.

"Monkeys," said he, "I have been a good friend to you, letting you eat my nuts and apples. And now I want to take a holiday. Will you water my garden while I am away?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes!" cried the Monkeys. They thought it a great joke, and leaped for joy.

So the gardener handed over his watering-pots to the monkeys, and put on his Sunday clothes, and went away to the fair.

Meanwhile,the Monkeys held a solemn council, sitting in a ring round the Monkey chief.

"Brothers," said the Monkey chief, "our good friend, the gardener has given us charge of this garden and all there is in it. We must take care not to hurt anything, and, above all, not to waste the water. There is very little water, and I really don't think it will go round."

It was in fact a well, very small at the top, but very deep, and at the bottom the water was always running. You might have watered till doomsday out of that well; but monkeys, though they are cunning, are not wise, and these monkeys thought that a little round hole could not hold very much water.

"So you see," the Monkey chief went on, "you must give each plant just enough water, and no more; and I think the best way will be, to see how long the roots are."

So each Monkey took a watering-pot, and they scattered all over the garden. Every bush and every plant they carefully pulled up, and measured its roots; and then they gave a great deal of water to plants with long roots, and only a little when the roots were short. After that they put the plants and bushes back in the holes they came from.

After a day or two, back came the gardener from his fair. But what was his horror to see that nearly all the plants in the garden were drooping, some of them dead and many dying, while the Monkeys were busy in every direction pulling up the rest.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what in the world are you doing? My garden is ruined, my garden is ruined!" The poor gardener wept for sorrow.

The Chief Monkey was very much surprised. He thought he had been very clever to put water according to the size of the roots, and he said so.

"Clever!" said the gardener. "Clever indeed! Fools you are, there is no mistake about it."