who sat upon his snow-white horse.
He bade the visitor to enter, and he and the old queen served their son
and bowed before him.

The next morning the young king rode back to his own land, and then sent
attendants with horses and splendid clothes, and bade them bring his
father and mother to his own home.

He had a noble feast set for them, with everything befitting the
entertainment of a king, but he ordered that not a grain of salt should
season it.

So the father and the mother sat down to the feast with their son and
his queen, but all the time they did not know him. The old king tasted
the food and tasted the food, but he could not eat of it.

"Do you not feel hungry?" said the young king.

"Alas," said his father, "I crave your majesty's pardon, but there is no
salt in the food."

"And so is life lacking of savor without love," said the young king;
"and yet because I loved you as salt you disowned me and cast me out
into the world."

Therewith he could contain himself no longer, but with the tears running
down his cheeks kissed his father and his mother; and they knew him, and
kissed him again.

Afterwards the young king went with a great army into the country of
his elder brothers, and, overcoming them, set his father upon his throne
again. If ever the two got back their crowns you may be sure that they
wore them more modestly than they did the first time.

So the Fisherman who had one time unbottled the Genie whom Solomon the
Wise had stoppered up concluded his story, and all of the good folk who
were there began clapping their shadowy hands.

"Aye, aye," said old Bidpai, "there is much truth in what you say, for
it is verily so that that which men call--love--is--the--salt--of--"....

His voice had been fading away thinner and thinner and smaller and
smaller--now it was like the shadow of a voice; now it trembled and
quivered out into silence and was gone.

And with the voice of old Bidpai the pleasant Land of Twilight was also
gone. As a breath fades away from a mirror, so had it faded and vanished
into nothingness.

I opened my eyes.

There was a yellow light--it came from the evening lamp. There were
people of flesh and blood around--my own dear people--and they were
talking together. There was the library with the rows of books looking
silently out from their shelves. There was the fire of hickory logs
crackling and snapping in the fireplace, and throwing a wavering, yellow
light on the