be managed if I could only win his confidence." With these thoughts the Jackal approached the Deer, and greeted him with the words:
"Good morning to you, friend Deer!"
"Pray, who are you?" asked the Deer,
"I am Small-Wit, the Jackal," replied the other; "And I live in the woods here with no more friends than if I were dead. But now that I have met such a friend as you, I feel as though I were starting life over again, surrounded by my relations. Please consider me your most devoted admirer."
"Very well, let us be friends," said the Deer. And then, as the light of day was fading, the two went together to the Deer's home. At this same spot, on the branch of a Champak tree, lived the Deer's friend, Sharp-Sense, the Crow. Seeing the other two approaching together, Sharp-Sense called down:
"Who is this Number Two, friend Deer?"
"It is Small-Wit, the Jackal," answered the Deer. "He wants to be friends with us."
"You should not be so ready to make friends with a stranger," replied Sharp-Sense.
"Sir!" interrupted the Jackal, with some warmth, "On the day that you first met the Deer, were you not equally of unknown family and character? Yet I am told that the friendship between you has daily grown stronger. To be sure I am only Small-Wit, the Jackal,—but you know the old saying, 'In a land where there are no wise men, the men of small wit are Princes.' The Deer has accepted me as a friend, won't you do the same?"
"What is the good of so much talking?" interrupted the Deer, "let us all three live together and be happy!"
