he rajah had gone out the
evening before and had not returned.

'Ah!' said one, 'it is all right! Musli wazir will know where he is,
for it was he who was the king's companion.'

Then they went to the wazir's house, and there they learnt that the
wazir had left it the evening before and had not returned; 'but,' said
a servant, 'Lena the banker will know where he is, for it was with him
that Musli went.'

Then they visited the house of Lena, and there they learnt that the
banker had gone out the evening before, and that he too had not
returned; but the porter told them that he was accompanied by Dena the
oil-seller, so he would know where they were.

So they departed to Dena's house, and Dena's wife met them with a
torrent of reproaches and wailings, for Dena too had gone off the
evening before to Lena's house and had not returned.

In vain they waited, and searched--never did any of the hapless four
return to their homes; and the confused tale which was told by Dena's
wife was the only clue to their fate.

To this day, in that country, when a greedy man has overreached
himself, and lost all in grasping at too much, folks say:

'All has he lost!--neither Dena, nor Lena, nor Musli, nor Kahre
remain.' And not five men in a hundred know how the proverb began, nor
what it really signifies.

(Major Campbell, Feroshepore.)

_THE FATE OF THE TURTLE_

In a very hot country, far away to the east, was a beautiful little
lake where two wild ducks made their home, and passed their days
swimming and playing in its clear waters. They had it all to
themselves, except for a turtle, who was many years older than they
were, and had come there before them, and, luckily, instead of taking
a dislike to the turtle, as so often happens when you have only one
person to speak to, they became great friends, and spent most of the
day in each other's company.

All went on smoothly and happily till one summer, when the rains
failed and the sun shone so fiercely that every morning there was a
little less water in the lake and a little more mud on the bank. The
water-lilies around the edge began to droop, and the palms to hang
their heads, and the ducks' favourite swimming place, where they could
dive the deepest, to grow shallower and shallower. At length there
came a morning when the ducks looked at each other uneasily, and
before nightfall they had whispered that if at the end of two days
rain had not come, they must fly away