In olden times, when men lived to be two or three hundred years old, there dwelt a very poor family near a big forest. The household had but three members,—a grandfather, a father, and a son. The grandfather was an old man of one hundred and twenty-five years. He was so old, that the help of his housemates was needed to feed him. Many a time, and especially after meals, he related to his son and his grandson his brave deeds while serving in the king’s army, the responsible positions he filled after leaving a soldier’s life; and he told entertaining stories of hundreds of years gone by. The father was not satisfied with the arrangement, however, and planned to get rid of the old man.

One day he said to his son, “At present I am receiving a peso daily, but half of it is spent to feed your worthless grandfather. We do not get any real benefit from him. To-morrow let us bind him and take him to the woods, and leave him there to die.”

“Yes, father,” said the boy.

When the morning came, they bound the old man and took him to the forest. On their way back home the boy said to his father, “Wait! I will go back and get the rope.”—“What for?” asked his father, raising his voice. “To have it ready when your turn comes,” replied the boy, believing that to cast every old man into the forest was the usual custom. “Ah! if that is likely to be the case with me, back we go and get your grandfather again.”

This exemplum is known in many countries and in many forms. For the bibliography, see Clouston, “Popular Tales and Fictions,” 2 : 372–378; T. F. Crane, “Exempla of Jacques de Vitry” (FLS, 1890 : No. 288 and p. 260); Bolte-Polívka (on Grimm, No. 78), 2 : 135–140. The most complete of these studies is the last, in which are cited German, Latin, Dutch, English, French, Spanish, Greek, Croatian, Albanian, Bulgarian, Polish, Russian, Lettish, Turkish, and Indian versions. Full as Bolte-Polívka’s list is, however, an old important Buddhistic variant has been overlooked by them,—the “Takkaḷa-jātaka,” No. 446. This Indian form of the story, it seems to me, has some close resemblances to our Pampango variant; and I give it here briefly, summarizing from Mr. Rouse’s excellent English translation:—

In a certain village of Kāsi there lived a man who supported his old father. The father regretted seeing his son toil so hard for him, and against the son’s will sent for a woman to be his daughter-in-law. Soon the son began to be pleased with his new wife, who took good care of his father. As time went on, however, she became tired of the old man, and planned to set his son against him. She accused her father-in-law of being not only very untidy, but also fierce and violent, and forever picking quarrels with her, and at last, by constant dinning her complaints in his ear, persuaded her husband to agree to take the old man into a cemetery, kill him, and bury him in a pit. Her small son, a wise lad of seven, overheard the plot, and decided to prevent his father from committing murder. The next day he insisted on accompanying his father and grandfather. When they reached the cemetery, and the father began to dig the pit, the small boy asked what it was for. The father replied,—

“Thy grandsire, son, is very weak and old,

Opprest by pain and ailments manifold;

Him will I bury in a pit to-day;

In such a life I could not wish him stay.”