hat even now your
shadow falls upon my sugar-cake--my cake stuffed with almonds,
which is the kind I most love, and therefore I cannot eat it.
There,' cried Moti, contemptuously, 'take it yourself and eat
it--you have no caste to break.'

For a minute Sunni was as angry as possible. Then he reflected
that it was silly to be angry with a person who was not very well.

'Listen, Moti,' he said, 'that was indeed a fault. I should have
walked to the north. But I will not eat your cake--let us give it
to the red and gold fishes in the fountain.'

'Some of it,' said Moti, appeased, 'and some to my new little
monkey--my talking monkey.'

The fishes darted up for the crumbs greedily, but the monkey was
not as grateful for her share as she ought to have been. She took
it, smelt it, wiped it vigorously on the ground, smelt it again,
and chattered angrily at the boys; then she went nimbly hand over
hand to the very top of the banyan-tree she lived in; and then she
deliberately broke it into little pieces and pelted the givers with
them.

'She is not hungry to-day,' said Moti. 'Let us take out the
falcons.'

Next morning the Maharajah was very much annoyed by the
intelligence that all the little red-spotted fishes were floating
flabby and flat and dead among the lily pads of the fountain--there
were few things except Moti that the Maharajah loved better than
his little red-spotted fishes. He wanted very particularly to know
why they should have died in this unanimous and apparently
preconcerted way. The gods had probably killed them by lightning,
but the Maharajah wanted to know. So he sent for the Englishman,
who did not mind touching a dead thing, and the Englishman told him
that the little red-spotted fishes had undoubtedly been poisoned.
Moti was listening when the doctor said this.

'It could not have been the cake,' said Moti.

But when all was looked into, including one of the little fishes,
Dr. Roberts found that it undoubtedly had been the cake. Scraps of
it were still lying about the banyan-tree to help him to this
conclusion, and the monkey chattered as if she could give evidence,
too, if anybody would listen. But she gave evidence enough in not
eating it. Everybody, that is, everybody in Rajputana, knows that
you can never poison a monkey. The little prince maintained that
the voice he heard was the voice of Matiya, yet every one
recognised the jewels to be Tarra's. There was nothing else to go