“Four,” said the Princess.
“And how many sons has Mistress Snake here?”
“Seven,” said the Snake.
“Then,” said the old shepherd, “it will be quite fair for Mistress Snake to kill his Highness the Prince when her Highness the Princess has had three sons more.”
“I never thought of that,” said the Snake. “Good-bye, King, and all you good people. Send a message when the Princess has had three more sons, and you may count upon me—I will not fail you.”
So saying, she uncoiled from the Prince's neck and slid away among the grass.
The King and the Prince and everybody shook hands with the wise old shepherd, and went home again. And the Princess never had any more sons at all. She and the Prince lived happily for many years; and if they are not dead they are living still.
From “The Talking Thrush.”
The True Spirit of a Festival Day.
And it came to pass that the Buddha was born a Hare and lived in a wood; on one side was the foot of a mountain, on another a river, on the third side a border village.