"Ah, my friend, I had to work hard; I can't bear the whip; the thought of the hideous crack! crack! makes me shiver even now," answered the horse.
"But leaving that aside, my poor horned friend," proceeded the horse, "I am now most anxious for you. I heard the master say to-night that if you were not well in the morning, the butcher was to come and slaughter you."
"You need not worry about me, friend horse," said the ox, "as I much prefer the yoke to chewing the cud of self-reproach."
At this point the farmer left the animals and entered his home, smiling at his own wily craft in re-establishing, if not contentedness, at least resignation to their fate, in the stable. Meeting his wife, she at once inquired as to the cause of his happy smile. He put her off, first with one excuse then with another, but to no avail; the more he protested, the stronger her inquisitiveness grew. Her unsatisfied curiosity at length made her ill. The endeavors of the numerous doctors brought to her assistance were as futile as the incantations of the sages from far and near, and as powerless to remove the spell as were the amulets, the charms, and the abracadabras conceived and written by holy men. The evil prompting gnawed her, and she visibly pined away. The poor farmer was distracted. Rather than see her die, he at last decided to tell her, and forfeit his own life to save hers. Deeply dejected, for no man quits this planet without a pang, he sat at the window gazing, as he thought, for the last time on the familiar surroundings. Of a sudden he noticed his favorite chanticleer, followed by his numerous harem, sadly strutting about, only allowing his favorites to eat the morsels he discovered, and ruthlessly driving the others away. To one he said: "I am not like our poor master, to be ruled by one or a score of you. He, poor man, will die to-day for revealing his secret knowledge to save her life."
"What is the secret knowledge?" asked one of the wives; and the chanticleer flew at her and thrashed her mercilessly, saying at each vigorous blow, "That is the secret, and if our master only treated the mistress as I treat you, he would not need to give up his life to-day."
And as if maddened at the thought, he beat them all in turn. The master, seeing and appreciating the effect from the window, went to his wife and treated her in precisely the same manner. And this effected what neither doctors, sages, nor holy men could do—it cured her.
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS
