And it knocked at the door with its fist, and cried, "Hodi!" And it cried again, "Hodi!" without finding any one inside to answer it. "Ah! is there no one in this house? Why then is not the door fastened outside? Perhaps the people are asleep, or perhaps they are far off and don't hear me. However, I will cry hodi now very loud, that if they are far off they may hear me, and if they are asleep they may wake."
And it cried, "Ho—o—di! Ho—o—o—di!" And an old person from inside answered, "Hodi;" and asked, "Who are you who are crying hodi?" And it said, "I, great mistress, your grandchild." And she said, "If you are my grandchild, father, go back again to where you came from; don't come and die here, and bring me to my death as well."
And it said, "Mistress, open, I have three words I want to say to you." And she said, "My grandson, I don't refuse to open; I fear to put your life in danger, and to put my own in danger too." And it said, "Mistress, my life will not pass away, nor yours either; but, great mistress, please to open that I may tell you my three words."
And the old body opened the door. And it said, "I embrace your feet, mistress." And she said, "Thanks, my grandson;" and she said, "Well; what is the news where you come from, my grandson?" And it said, "Great lady, where I come from it is well, and here where I am come to it is well?" And she said, "Ah, my son, here it is not well by any means; if you are looking for a way to die, or if you have not yet seen death, then to-day is the day for you to see death, and the day for you to know what dying is."
And it said, "Great mistress, for a fly to die in cocoanut juice is no loss to it." And she said, "If so it shall be my son; I foresee loss for you, for many people have
