the lakes were broken-hearted at
the loss of their lotuses. And the trees, filled with chirping birds,
seemed to lament the absence of the spring, and their withering leaves
seemed like lips that grow dry in the heat.

At this time Hariswami was distressed by the heat and the loss of his
wife, by hunger, thirst, and weariness. And as he sought for food, he
came to a village. There he saw many Brahmans eating in the house of a
Brahman named Lotus-belly, and he leaned against the doorpost,
speechless and motionless.

Then the good wife of that pious Brahman pitied him, and she thought:
"Hunger is a heavy burden. It makes anyone light. Look at this hungry
man standing with bowed head at the door. He looks like a pious man who
has come from a far country, and he is tired. Therefore he is a proper
person for me to feed."

So the good woman took in her hands a dish filled with excellent rice,
melted butter, and candied sugar, and courteously gave it to him. And
she said: "Go to the edge of our pond, and eat it."

He thanked her, took the dish, went a little way, and set it down under
a fig-tree on the edge of the pond. Then he washed his hands and feet
in the pond, rinsed his mouth, and joyfully drew near to eat the good
food.

At that moment a hawk settled on the tree, carrying a black snake in
his beak and claws. And the snake died in the grasp of the hawk, and
his mouth opened, and a stream of poison came out. This poison fell
into the dish of food.

But Hariswami did not see it. He came up hungry, and ate it all. And
immediately he felt the terrible effects of the poison. He stammered
out: "Oh, when fate goes wrong, everything goes wrong. Even this rice
and the milk and the melted butter and the candied sugar is poison to
me." And he staggered up to the Brahman's wife and said: "Oh, Brahman's
wife, I have been poisoned by the food you gave me. Bring a
poison-doctor at once. Otherwise you will be the murderer of a Brahman."

And the good woman was terribly agitated. But while she was running
about to find a poison-doctor, Hariswami turned up his eyes and died.
Thus, though she was not to blame, though she was really charitable,
the poor wife was reproached by the angry Brahman who thought she had
murdered her guest. She was falsely accused for a really good action.
So she was dejected and went on a pilgrimage.

When he had told this story, the goblin said: "O King, who murdered the
Brahman? the snake, or the h