After his wife had got over her mourning, she continued to live, partly supported by her handiwork, and partly by her relatives. Not far from her dwelt a weaver who was [[38]]skilled in his art, and who by means of adroitness succeeded in everything. Seeing that he, by means of his art, had become well to do, she came to the conclusion that weaving was better than going to sea, for when a man did the latter, he needlessly exposed himself to misfortune. So she said to the weaver, “O brother, teach this nephew of yours to weave.” He replied, “As that is right, I will do so.” The youth became his apprentice, and in a short time learnt the art of weaving, for he was sharp and quick.
As the weaver wore fine clothes, took good baths, and partook of delicate food, the youth said to him one day, “Uncle, how is it that although you and I are occupied in exactly the same kind of work, yet you have fine clothes, good baths, and delicate food, but I never have a chance of such things?” The weaver replied, “Nephew, I carry on two kinds of work. By day I practise weaving, but by night thieving.”
“If that be so, uncle, I too will practise thieving.”
“Nephew, you cannot commit a theft.”
“Uncle, I can.”
The weaver thought he would test him a little, so he took him to the market-place, purchased a hare there, and gave it to him, saying, “Nephew, I shall take a bath and then return home. Meanwhile, go on roasting this hare.” While he was taking his bath, the youth hastily roasted the hare and ate up one of its legs. When the weaver returned from his bath, he said, “Nephew, have you roasted the hare?”
“Yes!”
“Let’s see it, then.”
When the youth had brought the hare, and the weaver saw that it only had three legs, he said, “Nephew, where is the fourth leg gone?”
“Uncle, it is true that hares have four legs, but if the fourth leg is not there, it cannot have gone anywhere.”