In Indian Nights’ Entertainment (Swynnerton), p. 14, a farmer and his wife who disputed regarding the shutting of the door, agreed that it should be closed by the one who spoke first. After a wild dog had eaten their food, the barber called, shaved the man’s head and half his beard and moustache, and blackened him with lamp-black. When the wife, who had gone out, returned and asked what he had been doing, she was told that it was she who must close the door.
In Cinq Cents Contes et Apologues (Chavannes), vol. ii, p. 209, a man and his wife made three cakes; each ate one, and they agreed that the first who spoke should allow the other to eat the third cake. Robbers broke in, began to collect all the goods in the house, and at last seized the wife. The man still did not utter a word; when the woman cried out and scolded him, he said, “Wife, it is certainly I who have gained the cake.”
[1] Probably a mat laid on the veranda. [↑]
[2] As a possible derivation, I suggest that the first part of the word may be derived from sam + bhañj, meaning “shatter, smash,” referring to his toes that were struck by the stone. The rest may consist of aḍi, foot, the whole word thus being sambhañjāḍi. In a variant the exclamation is Hottaeripancan. [↑]
No. 88
The Story of Marirāla
In a country a man near the [New] Year spoke to the people of the village: “To bring palm sugar let us go to the quarter where there is palm sugar.” “It is good,” a few people said. Having said “I am going to-morrow,” and having plucked fifty coconuts and removed the husks, he placed them in the corner in the house.
On the following day morning, bringing the pingo stick and two sacks outside, and having broken [open] the sacks, and placed them below the raised veranda, when he was going into the house to bring the coconuts [his] wife said, “Stop and eat cooked rice. Be good enough to tie the pingo load.”