BOOK I.
because a carter, not heeding the warning which she had given him, drove his waggon over a dog which she had saved from starving.
"You have killed my brother, the dog," she said, "and that shall cost you your horses and your cart."
"Horses and cart, indeed," said the carrier, "What harm can you do to me?" and he drove on.
But presently the sparrow contrived to force out the cork from the bunghole of one of the casks in the waggon, and all the wine ran out on the ground. "Ah me! I am a poor man now," cried the carter, when he saw it. "Not poor enough yet," said the sparrow, as she perched on the head of one of the horses, and picked out his eye. The carter in his rage took up his hatchet to kill the bird, but instead of it, he hit his horse, which fell down dead. So it fared with the second cask and the two remaining horses. Leaving his waggon on the road, the carter found his way home, and bemoaned to his wife the loss of his wine and his beasts.
"Ah my husband," she replied, "and what a wicked bird has come to this house; she has brought with her all the birds in the world, and there they sit among our corn, and are eating every ear of it."
"Ah me, I am poorer than ever," said the man, as he beheld the havoc. "Still not poor enough, carrier; it shall cost you your life," said the bird as she flew away. By and by the sparrow appeared at the window-sill, and uttered the same words, and the carrier, hurling his axe at it, broke the window-frame in two. Every other piece of furniture in the house was demolished as he vainly attempted to hit the bird. At length he caught her, and his wife asked if she should kill her.
"No," said he, "that were too merciful; she shall die much more horribly, for I will eat her alive." So saying, he swallowed her whole; but she began to flutter about in his stomach, and presently came again into his mouth, and cried out, "Carrier, it shall cost you your life."
Thereupon the man handed the axe to his wife, saying, "Kill me the wretch dead in my mouth." His wife took it, and aimed a blow, but missing her mark struck her husband on the head and killed him. Then the sparrow flew away and was never seen there again. [1]
- ↑ This last incident is clearly the same as that which brings about the death of the bald carpenter, who being attacked by a mosquito called his son to drive it away. The son aiming a blow at the insect, splits his father's head with the axe. This story from the Panchatantra Professor Max Müller {Chips, &c., ii. 232) identifies with the fable in Phædrus, of the bald man who, trying to kill a gnat, gives himself a severe blow in the face, and he attri-
