The Princess twisted up her glossy black hair, and, plucking a red lotus, placed it in it, and dabbled her feet in the water, and amused herself by putting round her neck a string of pearls that had been her sister’s necklace. Then, as the sun was rising, she threw away the lotus, and covering her face and arms again with the withered skin, went hastily away. When the Prince got home, the first thing he said to his parents was, “Father, mother! I should like to marry that old woman who stands all day at the farmer’s gate, just opposite.” “What!” cried they, “the boy is mad! Marry that skinny old thing! You cannot—you are a King’s son. Are there not enough Queens and Princesses in the world, that you should wish to marry a wretched old beggar-woman?” But he answered, “Above all things I should like to marry that old woman. You know that I have ever been a dutiful and obedient son. In this matter, I pray you, grant me my desire.” Then, seeing he was really in earnest about the matter, and that nothing they could say would alter his mind, they listened to his urgent entreaties—not, however, without much grief and vexation—and sent out the guards, who fetched the old woman (who was really the Princess in disguise) to the palace, where she was married to the Prince as privately and with as little ceremony as possible, for the family were ashamed of the match.
As soon as the wedding was over, the Prince said to his wife, “Gentle wife, tell me how much longer you intend to wear that old skin? You had better take it off; do be so kind.” The Princess wondered how he knew of her disguise, or whether it was only a guess of his; and she thought, “If I take this ugly skin off, my husband will think me pretty, and shut me up in the palace and never let me go away, so that I shall not be able to find my sister again. No, I had better not take it off.” So she answered, “I don’t know what you mean. I am as all these years have made me; nobody can change their skin.” Then the Prince pretended to be very angry, and said, “Take off that hideous disguise this instant, or I’ll kill you.” But she only bowed her head, saying, “Kill me, then, but nobody can change their skin.” And all this she mumbled as if she were a very old woman indeed, and had lost all her teeth and could not speak plain. At this the Prince laughed very much to himself, and thought, “I’ll wait and see how long this freak lasts.” But the Princess continued to keep on the old woman’s skin; only every morning, at about three o’clock, before it was light, she would get up and wash it and put it on again. Then, some time afterward, the Prince, having found this out, got up softly one morning early, and followed her to the next room, where she had washed the skin and placed it on the floor to dry, and stealing it, he ran away with it and threw it on the fire. So the Princess, having no old woman’s skin to put on, was obliged to appear in her own likeness. As she walked forth, very sad at missing her disguise, her husband ran to meet her, smiling and saying, “How do you do, my dear? Where is your skin now? Can’t you take it off, dear?” Soon the whole palace had heard the joyful news of the beautiful young wife that the Prince had won; and all the people, when they saw her, cried, “Why she is exactly like the beautiful Princess our young Rajah married, the jungle lady.” The old Rajah and Ranee were prouder than all of their daughter-in-law, and took her to introduce her to their eldest son’s wife. Then no sooner did the Princess enter her sister-in-law’s room then she saw that in her she had found her lost sister, and they ran into each other’s arms. Great then was the joy of all, but the happiest of all these happy people were the two Princesses.
XVIII.
THE BLIND MAN, THE DEAF MAN AND THE DONKEY.
A BLIND Man and a Deaf Man once entered into partnership. The Deaf Man was to see for the Blind Man, and the Blind Man was to hear for the Deaf Man.
One day both went to a nautch[82] together. The Deaf Man said, “The dancing is very good, but the music is not worth listening to;” and the Blind Man said, “On the contrary, I think the music very good, but the dancing is not worth looking at.”
After this they went together for a walk in the jungle, and there they found a Dhobee’s donkey that had strayed away from its owner, and a great big chattee (such as Dhobees boil clothes in), which the donkey was carrying with him.
The Deaf Man said to the Blind Man, “Brother, here are a donkey and a Dhobee’s great big chattee, with nobody to own them! Let us take them with us—they may be useful to us some day.” “Very well,” said the Blind Man, “we will take them with us.” So the Blind Man and the Deaf Man went on their way, taking the donkey and the great big chattee with them. A little farther on they came to an ant’s nest, and the Deaf Man said to the Blind Man, “Here are a number of very fine black ants, much larger than any I ever saw before. Let us take some of them home to show our friends.” “Very well,” answered the Blind Man; “we will take them as a present to our friends.” So the Deaf Man took a silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and put four or five of the finest black ants into it; which done, they continued their journey.
But before they had gone very far a terrible storm came on. It thundered and lightened and rained and blew with such fury that it seemed as if the whole heavens and earth were at war. “Oh dear! oh dear!” cried the Deaf Man, “how dreadful this lightning is! Let us make haste and get to some place of shelter.” “I don’t see that it’s dreadful at all,” answered the Blind Man, “but the thunder is very terrible; we had better certainly seek some place of shelter.”