By Flora Annie Steel
One moonlight night a miserable, half-starved Jackal, skulking through the village, found a worn-out pair of shoes in the gutter. They were too tough for him to eat, so, determined to make some use of them, he strung them to his ears like earrings, and, going down to the edge of the pond, gathered all the old bones he could find together and built a platform of them, plastering it over with mud.
On this he sat in a dignified attitude, and when any animal came to the pond to drink, he cried out in a loud voice, “Hi! stop! You must not taste a drop till you have done homage to me. So repeat these verses which I have composed in honor of the occasion:
‘Silver is his dais, plastered o’er with gold;
In his ears are jewels,—some prince I must behold!’”
Now, as most of the animals were very thirsty, and in a great hurry to drink, they did not care to dispute the matter, but gabbled off the words without a second thought. Even the royal tiger, treating it as a jest, repeated the Jackal’s rime, in consequence of which the latter became quite a cock-a-hoop, and really began to believe he was a personage of great importance.
By and by an Iguana, or big lizard, came waddling down to the water, looking for all the world like a baby alligator.
“Hi! you there!” sang out the Jackal; “you mustn’t drink until you have said—
‘Silver is his dais, plastered o’er with gold;
In his ears are jewels,—some prince I must behold!’”
“Pouf! pouf! pouf!” gasped the Iguana. “Mercy on us, how dry my throat is! Mightn’t I have just a wee sip of water first? and then I could do justice to your admirable lines; at present I am as hoarse as a crow!”
“By all means,” replied the Jackal, with a gratified smirk. “I flatter myself the verses are good, especially when well recited.”