ppened to him, and as soon as
he got home he told his wife and children, and the moment he had done
so he became mad and dumb and blood came out of his mouth, and he fell
down dead.

Told by Dunkni.

[Decoration]

[Decoration]

XIII.

THE UPRIGHT KING.

There was a great Maharaja whose name was Harchand Raja, and he had an
only son called Manikchand. He was very rich and had a great deal of
money, and he also had a very large garden full of lovely flowers and
fruits which he prized greatly. Every morning before he bathed he used
to give some poor fakir two pounds and a half of gold. Now Harchand
Maharaja used to pray a great deal to God, and God was very fond of
him, so he said one day, "To see if Harchand Maharaja really loves me,
I will make him very poor for twelve years." And at night God came
down in the shape of a great boar, and ate up everything that was in
Harchand Maharaja's garden. The boar then ran away into the jungle.
Next morning the gardener got up and looked out into the garden, and
what was his astonishment when he saw it was all spoilt. Nothing was
left in it; it was not a garden any more. He went quickly to the
Maharaja and said, "Oh, master! oh, Maharaja! your garden is quite
spoilt. Last night a boar came and ate up everything in it."
"Nonsense," said the Maharaja, who would not believe him. "It is quite
true," said the gardener; "you can come and see for yourself." So the
Raja got up at once and put on his clothes, and went into the garden,
and found it all empty. He went back to the house very melancholy.
Then as usual he gave a fakir his two pounds and a half of gold. After
breakfast he went out hunting. The boar which had run away into the
wood changed himself into a very old fakir, who shook from old age. As
Harchand Maharaja passed, the old fakir held out his hand, saying,
"Please give me a few pice, I am so poor and hungry." The Maharaja
said, "Come to my palace and I will give you two pounds and a half of
gold." "Oh, no," said the fakir, "surely you would never give me so
much as that." "Yes, I will," said the Maharaja. "Every morning before
I bathe I give a fakir two pounds and a half of gold." "Nonsense,"
said the fakir, "you don't give away your money in that way." "Really,
I do," said the Maharaja, "and I promise to give you two pounds and a
half of gold." So the fakir followed Harchand Maharaja home, and when
they reached the palace, the Maharaja told his treasurer