t of you! Where's your king? Bring him to me. Here
are all my fine fellows coming up and we'll each pull up a tree by the
roots and lay you all flat and your houses and towns and everything
else! Come on!'

But the poor fat officer could do nothing but squat on his knees with
his hands together, gasping. At last, when he got his breath, Moti sent
him off to bring his king, and to tell him that if he was reasonable his
life should be spared. Off the poor man went, and by the time the troops
of Moti's side had come up and arranged themselves to look as
formidable as possible, he returned with his king. The latter was very
humble and apologetic, and promised never to make war any more, to pay a
large sum of money, and altogether do whatever his conqueror wished.

So the armies on both sides went rejoicing home, and this was really the
making of the fortune of clumsy Moti, who lived long and contrived
always to be looked up to as a fountain of wisdom, valour, and
discretion by all except his relations, who could never understand what
he had done to be considered so much wiser than anyone else.

A Pushto Story.

_THE ENCHANTED DEER_

A YOUNG man was out walking one day in Erin, leading a stout cart-horse
by the bridle. He was thinking of his mother and how poor they were
since his father, who was a fisherman, had been drowned at sea, and
wondering what he should do to earn a living for both of them. Suddenly
a hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said to him:

'Will you sell me your horse, son of the fisherman?' and looking up he
beheld a man standing in the road with a gun in his hand, a falcon on
his shoulder, and a dog by his side.

'What will you give me for my horse?' asked the youth. 'Will you give me
your gun, and your dog, and your falcon?'

'I will give them,' answered the man, and he took the horse, and the
youth took the gun and the dog and the falcon, and went home with them.
But when his mother heard what he had done she was very angry, and beat
him with a stick which she had in her hand.

'That will teach you to sell my property,' said she, when her arm was
quite tired, but Ian her son answered her nothing, and went off to his
bed, for he was very sore.

That night he rose softly, and left the house carrying the gun with him.
'I will not stay here to be beaten,' thought he, and he walked and he
walked and he walked, till it was day again, and he was hungry and
looked about him to