advantage of Natal, or rather my wounded vanity—wasn’t it very hard that I still counted so little as not to be able to have a harbour constructed where I wanted it?—Well, then, all this, in connection with my candidature for the regulation of a solar system, had that day made me so unamiable. When the sunset cured me a little—for discontentedness is an illness—it was exactly that illness which reminded me of ‘The Japanese Stone-cutter,’ and perhaps it was only for one reason that I thought that story aloud: namely, that, making myself believe that I did it out of kindness towards the child, I could thus on the sly take the last dose of medicine I felt I needed. But she, the child, cured me—for some days at least—better than my story, which must approximately have run thus:—
“ ‘Oopi, there was a man who cut stones out of the rock. His labour was very heavy, and he laboured much, but his wages were slender, and he was not contented.
“ ‘He sighed because his labour was heavy. And he exclaimed: “Oh, that I were rich, so that I might rest on a baleh-baleh[1] with red silk klamboo!"[2]
“ ‘And there came an angel from heaven, and said: “Be it unto thee as thou hast said!”
“ ‘And he was rich. And he rested on a baleh-baleh and the klamboo was of red silk.
“ ‘And the king of the land passed by, with horsemen in front of his car. And behind the car also there were horsemen, and the golden payong[3] was held above the head of the king.
“ ‘And when the rich man saw this, he was vexed that no golden payong was held above his head. And he was not contented.
“ ‘He sighed, and exclaimed: “I wish I were a king!”
“ ‘And there came an angel from heaven, and said: “Be it unto thee as thou hast said!”
