sake.

Then they invited the King and Queen of Starza-Longa to their Court, and
had a great wedding feast, and proved once more that there is no better
seasoning for the joys of true love than a few pangs of grief.

THE BITER BIT

Once upon a time there lived a man called Simon, who was very rich,
but at the same time as stingy and miserly as he could be. He had a
housekeeper called Nina, a clever capable woman, and as she did her work
carefully and conscientiously, her master had the greatest respect for
her.

In his young days Simon had been one of the gayest and most active
youths of the neighbourhood, but as he grew old and stiff he found it
very difficult to walk, and his faithful servant urged him to get a
horse so as to save his poor old bones. At last Simon gave way to the
request and persuasive eloquence of his housekeeper, and betook himself
one day to the market where he had seen a mule, which he thought would
just suit him, and which he bought for seven gold pieces.

Now it happened that there were three merry rascals hanging about the
market-place, who much preferred living on other people's goods to
working for their own living. As soon as they saw that Simon had bought
a mule, one of them said to his two boon companions, 'My friends, this
mule must be ours before we are many hours older.'

'But how shall we manage it,' asked one of them.

'We must all three station ourselves at different intervals along the
old man's homeward way, and must each in his turn declare that the mule
he has bought is a donkey. If we only stick to it you'll see the mule
will soon be ours.' This proposal quite satisfied the others, and they
all separated as they had agreed.

Now when Simon came by, the first rogue said to him, 'God bless you, my
fine gentleman.'

'Thanks for your courtesy,' replied Simon.

'Where have you been?' asked the thief.

'To the market,' was the reply.

'And what did you buy there?' continued the rogue.

'This mule.'

'Which mule?'

'The one I'm sitting upon, to be sure,' replied Simon.

'Are you in earnest, or only joking?'

'What do you mean?'

'Because it seems to me you've got hold of a donkey, and not of a mule.'

'A donkey? Rubbish!' screamed Simon, and without another word he rode
on his way. After a few hundred yards he met the second confederate, who
addressed him, 'Good day, dear sir, where are you coming from?'

'From the market,' answered Simon.

'Did