himself if he jumped. So he asked Suan to pardon him.
“No, you must fulfil the decision of the king,” answered Suan.
“Let me off from jumping on you, and I will give you five hundred pesos,” said Isidro.
The amount appealed to Suan as being a good offer, so he accepted it and let Isidro go.
As soon as Suan reached home, he took Pedro’s post from his house, and started for Pedro’s house, taking a razor along with him. “Here is your post,” he said; “but you must lie down, for I am going to get my rice and fish from you.”
In great fright Pedro said, “You need not return the post any more.”
“No,” said Suan, “we must fulfil the decision of the king.”
“If you do not insist on your demand,” said Pedro, “I will give you half of my riches.”
“No, I must have my rice and fish.” Suan now held Pedro by the shoulder, and began to cut Pedro’s abdomen with the razor. He had no sooner done that, than Pedro, in great terror, cried out—
“Don’t cut me, and you shall have all my riches!”
Thus Suan became the richest man in town by using his tact and knowledge in outwitting his enemies.
The King’s Decisions.
Narrated by José M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, who heard the story from his father.
Once a poor man named Juan was without relatives or friends. Life to him was a series of misfortunes. A day often passed without his tasting even a mouthful of food.
One day, weakened with hunger and fatigue, as he was walking along the road, he passed a rich man’s house. It so happened that at this time the rich man’s food was being cooked. The food smelled so good, that Juan’s hunger was satisfied merely with the fragrance. When the rich man learned that the smell of his food had satisfied Juan, he demanded money of Juan. Juan refused to give money, however, because he had none, and because he had neither tasted nor touched the rich man’s food. “Let’s go to the king, then,” said Pedro, the rich man, “and have this matter settled!” Juan had no objection to the proposal, and the two set out for the palace.
Soon they came to a place where the mire was knee-deep. There they saw a young man who was trying to help his horse out of a mud-hole. “Hey, you lazy fellows! help me to get my horse out of this hole,” said Manuel. The three tried with all their might to release the horse. They finally succeeded; but unfortunately Juan had taken hold of the horse’s tail, and it was broken off when Juan gave a sudden hard pull.
“You have got to pay me for injuring my horse,” said Manuel.
“No, I will not give you any money, because I had no intention of helping you until you asked me to,” said Juan.
“Well, the king will have to settle the quarrel.” Juan, who was not to be frightened by threats, went with Pedro and Manuel.
Night overtook the three on their way. They had to lodge themselves in the house of one of Pedro’s friends. Juan was not allowed to come up, but was made to sleep downstairs.
At midnight the pregnant wife of the host had to make water. She went to the place under which Juan was sleeping. Juan, being suddenly awakened and frightened, uttered a loud shriek; and the woman, also frightened because she thought there were robbers or ghosts about, miscarried. The next morning the husband asked Juan why he had cried out so loud in the night. Juan said that he was frightened.
“You won’t fool me! Come with us to the king,” said the husband.
When the four reached the palace, they easily gained access to the royal presence. Then each one explained why he had come there.
“I’ll settle the first case,” said the king. He commanded the servant to fetch two silver coins and place them on the table. “Now, Pedro, come here and smell the coins. As Juan became satisfied with the smell of your food, so now satisfy yourself with the smell of the money.” Pedro could not say a word, though he was displeased at the unfavorable decision.
“Now I’ll give my decisions on the next two cases. Manuel, you must give your horse to Juan, and let him have it until another tail grows.—And you, married man, must let Juan have your wife until she gives birth to another child.”
Pedro, Manuel, and the married man went home discontented with the decisions of the king—Pedro without having received pay, Manuel without his horse, and the other man without his wife.
Notes.
These two Tagalog stories, together with another, “How Piro became Rich,” which is almost identical with No. 5(a), may possibly be descended directly from an old Buddhist birth-story (“Gāmaṇi-canda-jātaka,” No. 257)—a tale in which W. A. Clouston (see Academy, No. 796, for Aug. 6, 1887) sees the germ of the “pound-of-flesh” incident. An abstract of the first part of this Jātaka will set forth the striking resemblance between our stories and this old Hindoo apologue,1 The part of the Jātaka that interests us is briefly the account of how a man was haled to the king’s tribunal for injuries done unwittingly, and how the king passed judgment thereupon. The abstract follows:—
Gāmaṇi, a certain old courtier of the ruling king’s dead father, decided to earn his living by farming, as he thought that the new king should be surrounded with advisers of his own age. He took up his abode in a village three leagues from the city, and, after the rainy season was over, one day borrowed two oxen from a friend, with which to help him do his ploughing. In the evening he returned the oxen; but the friend being at dinner, and not inviting Gāmaṇi to eat, Gāmaṇi put the oxen in the stall, and got no formal release from his creditor. That night thieves stole the cattle. Next day the owner of the oxen discovered the theft, and decided to make Gāmaṇi pay for the beasts. So the two set out to lay the case before the king. On the way they stopped for food at the house of a friend of Gāmaṇi’s. The woman of the house, while climbing a ladder to the store-room for rice for Gāmaṇi, fell and miscarried. The husband, returning that instant, accused Gāmaṇi of hitting his wife and bringing on untimely labor: so the husband set off with Gāmaṇi’s first accuser to get justice from the king. On their way they met a horse that would not go with its groom. The owner of the horse shouted to G. to hit the horse with something and head it back. G. threw a stone at the animal, but broke its leg. “Here’s a king’s officer for you,” shouted the man; “you’ve broken my horse’s leg.” G. was thus three men’s prisoner. By this time G. was in despair, and decided to kill himself. As soon as opportunity came, he rushed up a hill near the road, and threw himself from a precipice. But he fell on the back of an old basket-maker and killed him on the spot. The son of the basket-maker accused G. of murder and went along with the three other plaintiffs to the king. (I omit here the various questions that persons whom G. meets along the road beg him to take to the king for an answer.)
All five appearing in the presence of the king, the
