from their beds, when beginning their prayers, when sitting down for meals or study, and, in fact, before beginning to do anything, each repeated his motto. The people had great hopes in Subuddhi, whom they fully expected to see a good and benevolent king; but the minister’s son all thoroughly hated. Even the minister himself, his father, hated his son for his vile turn of mind, which he found impossible to change. His only friend, as we have already said, was the prince, who, notwithstanding all his faults, loved him sincerely. Both of them had grown up together from their very cradle, had played in the same dust, had read their lessons side by side in the same school under the same teachers. Fortune so ordained that the prince’s mind should take such a bent, while the mind of the minister’s son turned in a crooked way.
Nor was Durbuddhi insensible to the disgust and dislike which every one manifested towards him. He was well aware of all that was going on around. Still he would not change.
“I have no friend in this world excepting yourself, my dear Subuddhi,” exclaimed Durbuddhi one day to his royal friend while they were riding together.
“Fear nothing. I shall ever stand by you as your true friend,” replied Subuddhi.
“My very father hates me. Who else would like me then? On the other hand, every one likes
