the parent-birds—further life being predestined—barely escaped death.
Then the hen-sparrow lamented, desolate with grief at the death of her chicks. And presently, hearing her lamentation, a woodpecker bird, a great friend of hers, came grieved at her grief, and said: "My dear friend, why lament in vain? For the Scripture says:
For lost and dead and past
The wise have no laments:
Between the wise and fools
Is just this difference.
And again:
No life deserves lament;
Fools borrow trouble,
Add sadness to the sad,
So make it double.
And yet again:
Since kinsmen's sticky tears
Clog the departed,
Bury them decently,
Tearless, whole-hearted."
"That is good doctrine," said the hen-sparrow, "but what of it? This elephant—curse his spring fever!—killed my babies. So if you are my friend, think of some plan to kill this big elephant. If that were done, I should feel less grief at the death of my children. You know the saying:
While one brings comfort in distress,
Another jeers at pain;
By paying both as they deserve,
A man is born again."
