I have done to my
master, that he may do me the like.'

'Good,' replied the old woman, and they went to bed.

In the morning, when light came, the gazelle was sick in its stomach and
feverish, and its legs ached. And it said 'Mother!'

And she answered, 'Here, my son?'

And it said, 'Go and tell my master upstairs the gazelle is very ill.'

'Very good, my son; and if he should ask me what is the matter, what am
I to say?'

'Tell him all my body aches badly; I have no single part without pain.'

The old woman went upstairs, and she found the mistress and master
sitting on a couch of marble spread with soft cushions, and they asked
her, 'Well, old woman, what do you want?'

'To tell the master the gazelle is ill,' said she.

'What is the matter?' asked the wife.

'All its body pains; there is no part without pain.'

'Well, what can I do? Make some gruel of red millet, and give to it.'

But his wife stared and said: 'Oh, master, do you tell her to make
the gazelle gruel out of red millet, which a horse would not eat? Eh,
master, that is not well.'

But he answered, 'Oh, you are mad! Rice is only kept for people.'

'Eh, master, this is not like a gazelle. It is the apple of your eye. If
sand got into that, it would trouble you.'

'My wife, your tongue is long,' and he left the room.

The old woman saw she had spoken vainly, and went back weeping to the
gazelle. And when the gazelle saw her it said, 'Mother, what is it, and
why do you cry? If it be good, give me the answer; and if it be bad,
give me the answer.'

But still the old woman would not speak, and the gazelle prayed her to
let it know the words of the master. At last she said: 'I went upstairs
and found the mistress and the master sitting on a couch, and he asked
me what I wanted, and I told him that you, his slave, were ill. And his
wife asked what was the matter, and I told her that there was not a
part of your body without pain. And the master told me to take some
red millet and make you gruel, but the mistress said, 'Eh, master, the
gazelle is the apple of your eye; you have no child, this gazelle is
like your child; so this gazelle is not one to be done evil to. This
is a gazelle in form, but not a gazelle in heart; he is in all things
better than a gentleman, be he who he may.'

And he answered her, 'Silly chatterer, your words are many. I know its
price; I bought it for an eighth. What loss will it be to me?'

The gazelle kept silence