oung crab had conducted the monkey to the tearoom
he left him and retired. Time passed and still he did not return. At
last the monkey became impatient. He said to himself:

"This tea ceremony is always a very slow affair. I am tired of waiting
so long. I am very thirsty after drinking so much sake at the dinner!"

He then approached the charcoal fire-place and began to pour out some
hot water from the kettle boiling there, when something burst out from
the ashes with a great pop and hit the monkey right in the neck. It was
the chestnut, one of the crab's friends, who had hidden himself in the
fireplace. The monkey, taken by surprise, jumped backward, and then
started to run out of the room.

The bee, who was hiding outside the screens, now flew out and stung him
on the cheek. The monkey was in great pain, his neck was burned by the
chestnut and his face badly stung by the bee, but he ran on screaming
and chattering with rage.

Now the stone mortar had hidden himself with several other stones on
the top of the crab's gate, and as the monkey ran underneath, the
mortar and all fell down on the top of the monkey's head. Was it
possible for the monkey to bear the weight of the mortar falling on him
from the top of the gate? He lay crushed and in great pain, quite
unable to get up. As he lay there helpless the young crab came up, and,
holding his great claw scissors over the monkey, he said:

"Do you now remember that you murdered my father?"

"Then you--are--my--enemy?" gasped the monkey brokenly.

"Of course," said the young crab.

"It--was--your--father's--fault--not--mine!" gasped the unrepentant
monkey.

"Can you still lie? I will soon put an end to your breath!" and with
that he cut off the monkey's head with his pitcher claws. Thus the
wicked monkey met his well-merited punishment, and the young crab
avenged his father's death.

This is the end of the story of the monkey, the crab, and the
persimmon-seed.

THE WHITE HARE AND THE CROCODILES

Long, long ago, when all the animals could talk, there lived in the
province of Inaba in Japan, a little white hare. His home was on the
island of Oki, and just across the sea was the mainland of Inaba.

Now the hare wanted very much to cross over to Inaba. Day after day he
would go out and sit on the shore and look longingly over the water in
the direction of Inaba, and day after day he hoped to find some way of
getting across.

One day as usual, the hare