ose delicious viands, thou
wouldst acquire a fresh form."

The Cat of the old woman, said, most beseechingly, "O brother! thou art
bound to me by neighbourship and kinship; why not this time, when thou
goest, take me with thee? Perchance, by thy good fortune, I may obtain
food."

The heart of the Neighbour-Cat melted at the speaker's lamentable
position, and he resolved that he would not attend the feast without
him. The Cat of the old woman felt new life at these tidings, and
descending from the roof stated the case to his mistress. The old dame
began to advise the Cat, saying: "O kind companion, be not deceived by
the words of worldly people and abandon not the corner of content, for
the vessel of covetousness is not filled save with the dust of the
grave." But the Cat had taken into its head such a longing for the
delicacies of the Sultan's table that the medicine of advice was not
profitable to it.

In short, the next day, along with its neighbour, the old woman's Cat,
with tottering steps conveyed itself to court, but before it could
arrive there ill-fortune had poured the water of disappointment on the
fire of its wish, and the reason was as follows:

The day before, the cats had made a general onslaught on the table, and
raised an uproar beyond bounds, and annoyed, to the last degree, the
guests and their host. Wherefore, on this day, the Sultan had
commanded that a band of archers, standing in ambush, should watch, so
that for every cat who, holding before its face the buckler of
impudence should enter the plain of audacity, the very first morsel
that it ate should be a liver-piercing shaft.

The old woman's Cat, ignorant of this circumstance, as soon as it smelt
the odour of the viands, turned its face like a falcon to the
hunting-ground of the table, and the scale of the balance of appetite
had not yet been weighted by heavy mouthfuls, when the heart-piercing
arrow quivered in its breast.

Dear friend! the honey pays not for the sting,
Content with syrup is a better thing.

The Young Tiger

In the environs of Basrah there was an island of excessively pleasant
climate, where limpid waters flowed on every side and life-bestowing
zephyrs breathed around.

From its excessive exquisiteness they called it the "Joy-expanding
Wilderness," and a Tiger bore sway there, such that from dread of him
fierce lions could not set foot in that retreat.

He had lived much time in that wild, according t