Bablya and Pappa

These are the few 'kisse' (Incidents) that were described to me by the SRF 'JP' to me and my friends over the cup of customary tea that we all had at 3pm during our  dissertation. The incidents are recorded as JP said it to us and are random in nature and mostly either followed by a similar incident or many a times following a discussion on the same topic.
I'll update the 'Kisse' as and when I hear a new one from JP and would update the Introduction to our main character Bablya, his Dad and yea our SRF JP too ;)

क

Few years back it so happen that in Nanded wearing helmet while riding bike became compulsory. The traffic police constables made it a point to remember by hitting the riders with their 'lathi' and thus every bike owner brought helmets. Like ever law that was tried to be enforced even this was forgotten. From everyone following this law to many and then to a few and finally no1 following the helmet rule. Just 3 months after the wearing helmet was made compulsory the use of helmet in the City of Gurudwara had stopped. 

A few months after the forceful compliance had stopped, I went to Bablya's house. On reaching there i found his dad (bablyache Pappa) with a broom in his hand, a helmet over his head standing over a stool ,dressed only in his lungi and vest trying to remove the cobwebs that had grown on the ceiling. 

When he realized my presence he grabbed the lower end of lungi pulled it half up and jumped from the stool. He opened his helmet visor and gave me a ear to ear grin. Then laughing he chuckled 

'The helmet was not getting used. So i put it to use this way. This way the cobweb don't fall on your eyes' 

And he started laughing in his typical way.

 ख

   A few years back in order to crub the eve teasing, Nanded police had open a unique 'chidimar' squad.  The unique squad a unique logic too, the boys going tripse on bike were more prone to be eve teasers. Bablya as usual was going triple seat on bike. He was caught and was taken to police station.  While he was being ushered into the police van a kid from our colony (Arun) saw him and he went shouting about it in colony.

    We were in 11th -12th then and I was in tution when bablayche pappa came in our class and started enquireing if bablya was there. The teacher asked what was wrong and on learning that there was rumour of bablaya being taken to police station the boys started shouting (whats new ? ,its expected !, must have done something wrong, he has bad company ...). Being their family friend I went along with bablyache pappa to the station (obviously police)

   It was my first trip to station and I was curious about it. I spent time drinking water from the water purifier there, Inspecting the urinals even trying to match the face in the wanted list with the faces of the criminals in the jail. (whats the use of having some one in wanted list if they are already being caught ?). A total of six tripse bike , meaning a total of 18 boys were caught. They were made to sit crossed legged on the floor in a line. When bablaya saw  his dad, He explained 'even (svatantraveer) Savarkar had to go to jail.'

ग 

Even when we were in school Bablya exhibited a true talent of unnerving teachers.  During our science lecture our physics sir were explaining the phenomenon of light travelling faster than sound. He quoted the simplest example of Thunder and lightning. While the sir continued with the lecture, Bablaya kept pondering something. After a while he raised his hand as if wanting to ask question. The physics master obliged by giving him the opportunity to clear his doubt. Those were days of TV which had CRT's in them. The display took ages to start. A loud static sound often was taken as alert for TV starting and even before the picture is displayed the sound track was audible. Bablya got up slowly and taking his time he asked "then how come when we start TV we hear sound before the picture comes ?"

Unexpected question are always a curse for the teachers. Little known television system was getting discussed and the Physicist had no idea about the technology component of it. He pondered over it and replied 'like everything we study has exception, TV is exception in this case. ति  सिस्टमअच्  तशी  अस्ते "

The story reminded me of a friend of mine who had baffled the whole class with his very simple question. The question tho logical still has no justification neither after so many years from our classmate nor from the Marathi teacher or in fact anyone else. The  story starts with an excerpt from Mahabharata where Bhima was fighting with Jarasand. According to Mahabharata,

Brihadratha was the king of Magadha. His wives were the twin princesses of Benares. While he led a content life and was a famed king, he was unable to have children for a very long time. Frustrated over his inability to have children, he retreated to the forest and eventually ended up serving a sage named Chandakaushika. The sage took pity on him and on finding the actual cause for his sorrow, gave him a fruit and told him to give it to his wife who in turn will soon become pregnant. But the sage did not know that he had two wives. Not wishing to displease either wife, Brihadratha cut the fruit in half and gave it to both of them. Soon both the wives became pregnant and gave birth to two halves of a human body. These two lifeless halves were very horrifying to view. So, Brihadratha ordered these to be thrown in the forest. A demoness (Rakshasi) named "Jara" (or Barmata) found these two pieces and held each of these in her two palms. Incidentally when she brought both of her palms together,the two pieces joined together giving rise to a living child. The Child cried loudly which created panic for Jara. Not having the heart to eat a living child, the demoness gave it to the king and explained him all that happened. The father named the boy as Jarasandha (literally meaning "joined by Jara").

Chandakaushika arrived at the court and saw the child. He prophesied to Brihadratha that his son will be specially gifted and would be a great devotee of Lord Shiva. 

Jarasandha became a famed and powerful king, extending his empire far and wide. He prevailed over many kings, and was crowned emperor of Magadha. Even while Jarasandha's power continued to grow, he had concerns over his future & that of the empires, as he had no heirs. Therefore, on the advice of his close friend king Banasura, Jarasandh decided to get his two daughters 'Asti and Prapti' married to the heir apparent ofMathura, Kansa. Jarasandha had also lent his army and his personal advise to Kansa to create a coup d'état in Mathura.
When Krishna killed Kansa in Mathura, Jarasandha become enraged because of Krishna and the entire Yadavas clan on seeing his two daughters being widowed. So, Jarasandha attacked Mathura repeatedly. He attacked Mathura 17 times. Sensing danger over the repeated attack on Mathura by Jarasandha, Krishna relocated his capital city to Dwaraka. Dwaraka was an island and it was not possible for anyone to attack it at all. Hence, Jarasandha could not attack the Yadavas anymore.Yudhisthira was planning to make a Rajasuya yagna or Ashwamedha Yagna in order to become the emperor. Krishna convinced him that Jarasandha was the only obstacle to oppose Yudhisthira from becoming an emperor. Jarasandha raided Mathura (Krishna's ancestral capital) and got defeated by Krishna every time. At one stage to avoid unnecessary loss of lives, Krishna moved his capital to Dwaraka, in one stroke. Since Dwaraka was an island city guarded heavily by Yadava Army, Jarasandha was not able to invade Dwaraka anymore. To attain the capacity to invade Dwaraka, Jarasandha planned to conduct a Yagna to please Lord Shiva. For this Yagna, He had imprisoned 95 kings and was in need of 5 more kings, after which he was planning to perform the Yagna, sacrificing all the 100 kings. Jarasandha thought that this Yagna will make him win the powerful Yadava Army.
The kings captured by Jarasandha wrote a secret missive to Krishna to rescue them from Jarasandha. Krishna, not wanting to go for an all out war with Jarasandha to rescue the captured kings, in order to avoid a major loss of lives, devised a plan to eliminate Jarasandha. Krishna advised Yudhisthira that Jarasandha was a major obstacle and must be killed before Yudhisthira starts performing the Rajasuya yagna. Krishna planned a clever scheme to eliminate Jarasandha by making Bheema wrestle with the Jarasandha in a dual fight, who killed Jarasandha after a fierce battle (Dwandwa yudha), which lasted for 27 days.

Like Karna, Jarasandha was also very good in giving charity donations. After performing his Shiva pooja, he used to give whatever the Brahmins asked for. On one such occasion Krishna, Arjuna and Bheema in the guise of Brahmins met Jarasandha. Krishna asked Jarasandha to choose any one of them for a wrestling match. Jarasandha chose Bheema, the strongman, to wrestle. Both of them fought for 27 days. Bheema did not know how to defeat Jarasandha. So, he sought the help of Krishna. Krishna knew the secret by which Jarasandha could be killed. Since, Jarasandha was brought to life when the two lifeless halves joined together, conversely, he can be killed only when these his body was torn into two halves and find a way as how these two don't merge. Krishna took a stick, he broke it into two and threw them in both directions. Bheema got the hint. He tore Jarasandha's body into two and threw the pieces in two directions. But, these two pieces came together and Jarasandha was able to attack Bheema again. Bheema got tired after several such futile attempts. He again sought the help of Krishna. This time, Lord Krishna took a stick, broke it into two and threw the left piece on right side and the right piece on the left side. Bheema precisely followed the same. Now, he tore Jarasandha's body into two and threw them in opposite directions. Thus, Jarasandha was killed as the two pieces could not merge into one. 

Well the story went well but my friend asked ," if earth is round and the pieces of his body could join when they face each other then HOW did they NOT joined on the other side of GLOBE ?"

 The sir were not in position to answer ,neither am I, can you answer ? !!

discipline

A boy was flying a kite with his father and asked him what kept the kite up.
 Dad replied, "The string."
 The boy said, "Dad, it is the string that is holding the kite down."
 The father asked his son to watch as he broke the string.
 Guess what happened to the kite? It came down. Isn't that true in life?
 Sometimes the very things that we think are holding us down are the things that are helping us fly. That is what discipline is all about.

 ......and make it a disciplined week ahead.

Hansa and Prafull

1

Hansa : Mature matlab ????
praful: jab apna mahesh...chori karte hue pakda gaya tha.. tab usne kya kaha tha ????? 
hansa: usne kaha tha.. mujhe chodd do.. "MAIN CHOR NAHI HOON" 
main chor ...main chor....mature. ..acha acha....

2

hansa: praful alphabet matlab
praful: alphabet hansa,local train mein safar karte hoye maasi jaise hi koi seat khali dekhti hai to wo apni beti alpha se kya kehti hai?
hansa: alpha beth seat pe,alpha beth,acha toh yeh alphabet 

3

Hansa : Prafulll "Asset" matlab ??? 
Praful : Asset Hansaaa .... 
Jab hum gaadi mein jaate hai and jab gaadi signal par rukti hai .... taab vo bhikari log aa kar kya bolte hai ...
"Aee Seth... thoda paisa do naa" ... "Eee Sethh ... " ... Asset ..

4

Hansa : Yeh Depend kya hota hai Prafful?? 
Praful : Depend Hansa... wo Swimming Pool mein ek taraf to paani kam gehra hota hai, aur dusri side zyada gehra... Deep-End.. Depend 

5

HANSA:- ae he he PRAFUL, Tournament matlab
PRAFUL:- TOURNAMENT HANSA!!! ye jo tumne jhuke pahane hai, Gehene pahene hai,Inko English mai kya khayate hai? Bolo bolo !!
HANSA:- Aaa haaan TOURNAMENT, (HANSA khush hokar) 
MELISA:-chidkar)aare use Tournament nahi, Ornament kahate hai.
HANSA:- aare kuch bhi maat bol
eak Jhumka -- ORNAMENT
do jhumke -- TWO ORNAMENT# #TOURNAMENT
Aaa Prafull, Melisia ko babuji ki tarha kuch bhi nahi aata.

6

Hansa: Praful elastic matlab??
Praful: Elastic Hansa...
apni voh radha ben unki beti ila ...
usko jab fracture hua tha to voh kya leke chalti thi??
Hansa : Ila to...
Ila-stick leke ...
Ila-stick !! Ila-stick!!!

7

Hansa : Praful "Decide" matlab ?
Praful : "Decide" Hansa ... vo Casettee player mein hum casettee nahi dalte usme hota hai na .... "A side" -- "B side" .... toa "C-side" ... "D- side" ---> "Decide"

Hatred

A kindergarten teacher decided to let her class play a game.

 The teacher told each child in the class to bring along a plastic bag containing a few potatoes.

 Each potato will be given a name of a person that the child hates.

 So the number of potatoes that a child will put in his/her plastic bag will depend on the number of people he/she hates.

 So when the day came, each child brought some potatoes with the name of the people he/she hated. Some had 2 potatoes; some 3 while some up to 5 potatoes. The teacher then told the children to carry with them the potatoes in the plastic bag wherever they go (even to the toilet) for 1 week.

 Days after days passed by, and the children started to complain due to the unpleasant smell let out by the rotten potatoes. Besides, those having 5 potatoes also had to carry heavier bags. After 1 week, the children were relieved because the game had finally ended...

 The teacher asked: "How did you feel while carrying the potatoes with you for 1 week?". The children let out their frustrations and started complaining of the trouble that they had to go through having to carry the heavy and smelly potatoes wherever they go.

 Then the teacher told them the hidden meaning behind the game. The teacher said: "This is exactly the situation when you carry your hatred for somebody inside your heart. The stench of hatred will contaminate your heart and you will carry it with you wherever you go. If you cannot tolerate the smell of rotten potatoes for just 1 week, can you imagine what is it like to have the stench of hatred in your heart for your lifetime???"

 Moral of the story:

 Throw away any hatred for anyone from your heart so that you will not carry sins for a lifetime.

 Forgiving others is the best attitude to take!

 Love Everyone & Be Loved... :) :) ♥

Apathy

Opposite of Love is not HATE, Opposite of love is apathy. Hate is just love gone bad.

many a times we feel hatred towards our fellow being, its just because we like them but are not able to accept them the way they are.

there are only two possible solution to the problem , either change them..

or just start adjusting to their nature.

Apathy is having no feeling whatsoever for the person , this happens when the person falls below our hatred level. Its bad that a person hates you but its worse if the person has a apathetic feeling towards you.

a potter fan would just say '“Apathy is a sort of living oblivion.”'

Lost in oblivion, devoid of emotions

Sadness inexplicable and feelings senseless

Dreams shattered and people left 

A sense of apathy persists

Self realization has took it's toll

The vision is blank and future looks bleak

So cold and desolate, a superficial robot

That cries out for help inside

No guilt, No conscience, No worries

Nothing, but nothingness remains

He pondered his life and the things he would change if given the opportunity.  There was his lack of education, his uninspiring job, and of course his troubled marriage.  These thoughts ran through his head several times a day, especially in the evening hours, before drifting off to sleep.  He never took much responsibility for the things that went wrong in his life.  Inevitably, someone else was always to blame.  But how…how could he change things?  Surely, there must be a way.  This thought pounded his brain during his last few minutes of wakefulness, as he buried himself beneath the covers, finally closing his eyes…too apathetic to give a damn.. . . .

Luck

'fortune favors the brave' and lucky are those who have the courage of taking risk.

Its not that every risk has success, but when you keep throwing, somewhere its gonna hit. Who knows what, but many a times, the pleasure of aiming for a target is enough to satisfy. and there is a possibility it may HIT.but where were we ...

yep Luck..

well there are many types of luck

first is called beginners luck, that is you succeed at the first attempt.

but if you fail and have the courage to attempt for a second time and  succeed that means most probably you deserve it.

then, there is a thing called 'third time lucky' and that what i feel is the ability to get up twice after falling and fight back.

then there are other types of luck

where in you were not winning and suddenly just because you failed a lot of times , your success is termed as lucky.

what people see is the work done, but actually what important is force applied.

The internal satisfaction that we need comes from effort and not the result.

But most often then not, luck is BAD. This is a very interesting phenomenon and strikes every human  on daily basis.

the human tendency to categorize the success of others as their luck and our failures as bad luck is the most notable feature of narrow mind.

the broader perspective and hence a  moral from this discussion would be to work hard and not to poke nose in others matter.

Luck is not chance -- 

It's Toil -- 

Fortune's expensive smile

 Is earned -- 

The Father of the Mine 

Is that old-fashioned Coin 

We spurned --

while i write this i want to add that
life is short
live it
who knows what might happen tomorrow,
and after all
20-12-2012 is near.
enjoy

Note:
Update (28/7/13) , Its month past the predicted doomsday and now every one can happily say that it was just the end of scroll that kept Mayans from making further calendar. The issue at hand though remains the same, there is no point in living a dumb life, better keep moving.  

Friend

dictionary would call A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts as a friend. Many would agree, many would not. for a simple Indian friend is one who gets pissed off when some one tries to use you and is the person to use you the most. though you wouldn't mind going a distance for his cause.

Not all human beings are blessed with friends. technically a mate would be a friend and so we have a number of categories to put our mates. you get classmate, a bench-mate, batch-mate and if i continue we could list them for hours. then you have colleagues, Juniors, Seniors. People in Mumbai also have unique type of mates train-mates.

while i was in school, on few occasion i did get across a proverb

"Friend in need is friend indeed"

If you ponder across this for long you sometimes feel that you have no friend. yes i know many of us know many occasion when our mates ditched us. few did for other priority purposes and few ditched in our need just because we were too low a priority for them to bother.

but all along the question was asked the wrong way and the story of two friend understood in a way it should not have been. The question is " For how many people are you a 'Friend' ". The purpose of story of our childhood was not to make us aware of friend who would forsake us in low times but to never become a friend who would run away.

A devoted friend : Oscar Wilde

One morning the old Water-rat put his head out of his hole. He had bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers, and his tail was like a long bit of black india-rubber. The little ducks were swimming about in the pond, looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their mother, who was pure white with real red legs, was trying to teach them how to stand on their heads in the water.

     'You will never be in the best society unless you can stand on your heads,' she kept saying to them; and every now and then she showed them how it was done. But the little ducks paid no attention to her. They were so young that they did not know what an advantage it is to be in society at all.

     'What disobedient children!' cried the old Water-rat; 'they really deserve to be drowned.'

     'Nothing of the kind,' answered the Duck, 'every one must make a beginning, and parents cannot be too patient.'

     'Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents,' said the Water-rat; 'I am not a family man. In fact, I have never been married, and I never intend to be. Love is all very well in its way, but friendship is much higher. Indeed, I know of nothing in the world that is either nobler or rarer than a devoted friendship.'

     'And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?' asked a Green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and had overheard the conversation.

     'Yes, that is just what I want to know,' said the Duck, and she swam away to the end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in order to give her children a good example.

     'What a silly question!' cried the Water-rat. 'I should expect my devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course.'

     'And what would you do in return?' said the little bird, swinging upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.

     'I don't understand you,' answered the Water-rat.

     'Let me tell you a story on the subject,' said the Linnet.

     'Is the story about me?' asked the Water-rat. If so, I will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction.'

     'It is applicable to you,' answered the Linnet; and he flew down, and alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted Friend.

     'Once upon a time,' said the Linnet, 'there was an honest little fellow named Hans.'

     'Was he very distinguished?' asked the Water-rat.

     'No,' answered the Linnet, 'I don't think he was distinguished at all, except for his kind heart, and his funny round good-humoured face. He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself, and every day he worked in his garden. In all the country-side there was no garden so lovely as his. Sweet-william grew there, and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds'-purses, and Fair-maids of France. There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac Crocuses, and gold, purple Violets and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and Wild Basil, the Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the Clove-Pink bloomed or blossomed in their proper order as the months went by, one flower taking another flower's place, so that there were always beautiful things to look at, and pleasant odours to smell.

     'Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted friend of all was big Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was the rich Miller to little Hans, that he [Hans] would never go by his garden without leaning over the wall and plucking a large nosegay, or a handful of sweet herbs, or filling his pockets with plums and cherries if it was the fruit season.

     '"Real friends should have everything in common," the Miller used to say, and little Hans nodded and smiled, and felt very proud of having a friend with such noble ideas.

     'Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought it strange that the rich Miller never gave little Hans anything in return, though he had a hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, and six milk cows, and a large stock of woolly sheep; but Hans never troubled his head about these things, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than to listen to all the wonderful things the Miller used to say about the unselfishness of true friendship.

     'So little Hans worked away in his garden. During the spring, the summer, and the autumn he was very happy, but when the winter came, and he had no fruit or flowers to bring to the market, he suffered a good deal from cold and hunger, and often had to go to bed without any supper but a few dried pears or some hard nuts. Jn the winter, also, he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.

     '"There is no good in my going to see little Hans as long as the snow lasts," the Miller used to say to his wife, "for when people are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered by visitors. That at least is my idea about friendship, and I am sure I am right. So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then I shall pay him a visit, and he will be able to give me a large basket of primroses, and that will make him so happy."

     "You are certainly very thoughtful about others," answered the Wife, as she sat in her comfortable armchair by the big pinewood fire; "very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat to hear you talk about friendship. I am sure the clergyman himself could not say such beautiful things as you do, though he does live in a three-storied house, and wears a gold ring on his little finger."

     '"But could We not ask little Hans up here?" said the Miller's youngest son. "If poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half my porridge, and show him my white rabbits."

     "What a silly boy you are!" cried the Miller; "I really don't know what is the use of sending you to school. You seem not to learn anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire, and our good supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get envious, and envy is a most terrible thing, and would spoil anybody's nature. I certainly will not allow Hans's nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will always watch over him, and see that he is not led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask me to let him have some flour on credit, and that I could not do. Flour is one thing, and friendship is another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words are spelt differently, and mean quite different things. Everybody can see that."

     '"How well you talk!" said the Miller's Wife, pouring herself out a large glass of warm ale; "really I feel quite drowsy. It is just like being in church."

     "Lots of people act well," answered the Miller; "but very few people talk well, which shows that talking is much the more difficult thing of the two, and much the finer thing also;" and he looked sternly across the table at his little son, who felt so ashamed of himself that he hung his head down, and grew quite scarlet, and began to cry into his tea. However, he was so young that you must excuse him.'

     'Is that the end of the story?' asked the Water-rat.

     'Certainly not,' answered the Linnet, that is the beginning.

     'Then you are quite behind the age,' said the Water-rat. 'Every good story-teller nowadays starts with the end, and then goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle. That is the new method. I heard all about it the other day from a critic who was walking round the pond with a young man. He spoke of the matter at great length, and I am sure he must have been right, for he had blue spectacles and a bald head, and whenever the young man made any remark, he always answered "Pooh!" But pray go on with your story. I like the Miller immensely. I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great sympathy between us.

     'Well,' said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other, 'as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that he would go down and see little Hans.

     '"Why, what a good heart you have!" cried his wife; "you are always thinking of others. And mind you take the big basket with you for the flowers."

     'So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with a strong iron chain, and went down the hill with the basket on his arm.

     '"Good morning, little Hans," said the Miller.

     '"Good morning," said Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling from ear to ear.

     '"And how have you been all the winter?" said the Miller. "Well, really," cried Hans, "it is very good of you to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid I had rather a hard time of it, but now the spring has come, and I am quite happy, and all my flowers are doing well."

     '"We often talked of you during the winter, Hans," said the Miller, "and wondered how you were getting on."

     '"That was kind of you," said Hans; "I was half afraid you had forgotten me."

     '"Hans, I am surprised at you," said the Miller; "friendship never forgets. That is the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid you don't understand the poetry of life. How lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-by!"

     '"They are certainly very lovely," said Hans, "and it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many. I am going to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster's daughter, and buy back my wheelbarrow with the money."

     '"Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don't mean to say you have sold it? What a very stupid thing to do!"

     '"Well, the fact is," said Hans, "that I was obliged to. You see the winter was a very bad time for me, and I really had no money at all to buy bread with. So I first sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. But I am going to buy them all back again now."

     '"Hans," said the Miller, "I will give you my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good repair; indeed, one side is gone, and there is something wrong with the wheel-spokes; but in spite of that I will give it to you. I know it is very generous of me, and a great many people would think me extremely foolish for parting with it, but I am not like the rest of the world. I think that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may set your mind at ease, I will give you my wheelbarrow."

     '"Well, really, that is generous of you," said little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. "I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house."

     '"A plank of wood" said the Miller; "why, that is just what I want for the roof of my barn. There is a very large hole in it, and the corn will all get damp if I don't stop it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It is quite remarkable how one good action always breeds another. I have given you my wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give me your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank, but true friendship never notices things like that. Pray get it at once, and I will set to work at my barn this very day."

     '"Certainly," cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged the plank out.

     '"It is not a very big plank," said the Miller, looking at it, "and I am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof there won't be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow with; but, of course, that is not my fault. And now, as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I am sure you would like to give me some flowers in return. Here is the basket, and mind you fill it quite full."

     '"Quite full?" said little Hans, rather sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket, and he knew that if he filled it he would have no flowers left for the market, and he was very anxious to get his silver buttons back.

     '"Well, really," answered the Miller, "as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don't think that it is much to ask you for a few flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness of any kind."

     '"My dear friend, my best friend," cried little Hans, "you are welcome to all the flowers in my garden. I would much sooner have your good opinion than my silver buttons, any day;" and he ran and plucked all his pretty primroses, and filled the Miller's basket.

     '"Good-bye, little Hans," said the Miller, as he went up the hill with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket in his hand.

     '"Good-bye," said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.

     'The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the porch, when he heard the Miller's voice calling to him from the road. So he jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and looked over the wall.

     'There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.

     '"Dear little Hans," said the Miller, "would you mind carrying this sack of flour for me to market?"

     '"Oh, I am so sorry," said Hans,"but I am really very busy to-day. I have got all my creepers to nail up, and all my flowers to water, and all my grass to roll."

     '"Well, really," said the Miller, "I think that, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, it is rather unfriendly of you to refuse."

     '"Oh, don't say that," cried little Hans, "I wouldn't be unfriendly for the whole world;" and he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with the big sack on his shoulders.

     'It was a very hot day, and the road was terribly dusty, and before Hans had reached the sixth milestone he was so tired that he had to sit down and rest. However, he went on bravely, and at last he reached the market. After he had waited there some time, he sold the sack of flour for a very good price, and then he returned home at once, for he was afraid that if he stopped too late he might meet some robbers on the way.

     "It has certainly been a hard day," said little Hans to himself as he was going to bed, "but I am glad I did not refuse the Miller, for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is going to give me his wheelbarrow."

     'Early the next morning the Miller came down to get the money for his sack of flour, but little Hans was so tired that he was still in bed.

     '"Upon my word," said the Miller, "you are very lazy. Really, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, I think you might work harder. Idleness is a great sin, and I certainly don't like any of my friends to be idle or sluggish. You must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you. Of course I should not dream of doing so if I were not your friend. But what is the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what one means? Anybody can say charming things and try to please and to flatter, but a true friend always says unpleasant things, and does not mind giving pain. Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers it, for he knows that then he is doing good."

     '"I am very sorry," said little Hans, rubbing his eyes and pulling off his night-cap, "but I was so tired that I thought I would lie in bed for a little time, and listen to the birds singing. Do you know that I always work better after hearing the birds sing?"

     '"Well, I am glad of that," said the Miller, clapping little Hans on the back, "for I want you to come up to the mill as soon as you are dressed, and mend my barn-roof for me."

     'Poor little Hans was very anxious to go and work in his garden, for his flowers had not been watered for two days, but he did not like to refuse the Miller, as he was such a good friend to him.

     '"Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said I was busy?" he inquired in a shy and timid voice.

     '"Well, really," answered the Miller, "I do not think it is much to ask of you, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow; but of course if you refuse I will go and do it myself."

     '"Oh! on no account," cried little Hans; and he jumped out of bed, and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.

     'He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the Miller came to see how he was getting on.

     '"Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?" cried the Miller in a cheery voice.

     '"It is quite mended," answered little Hans, coming down the ladder.

     '"Ah!" said the Miller, "there is no work so delightful as the work one does for others."

     '"It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk," answered little Hans, sitting down and wiping his forehead, "a very great privilege. But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as you have."

     '"Oh! they will come to you," said the Miller, "but you must take more pains. At present you have only the practice of friendship; some day you will have the theory also."

     '"Do you really think I shall?" asked little Hans.

     '"I have no doubt of it," answered the Miller; "but now that you have mended the roof, you had better go home and rest, for I want you to drive my sheep to the mountain to-morrow."

     'Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early the next morning the Miller brought his sheep round to the cottage, and Hans started off with them to the mountain. It took him the whole day to get there and back; and when he returned he was so tired that he went off to sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till it was broad daylight.

     '"What a delightful time I shall have in my garden," he said, and he went to work at once.

     'But somehow he was never able to look after his flowers at all, for his friend the Miller was always coming round and sending him off on long errands, or getting him to help at the mill. Little Hans was very much distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers would think he had forgotten them, but he consoled himself by the reflection that the Miller was his best friend. "Besides," he used to say, "he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that is an act of pure generosity."

     'So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller said all kinds of beautiful things about friendship, which Hans took down in a note-book, and used to read over at night, for he was a very good scholar.

     'Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by his fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It was a very wild night, and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at first he thought it was merely the storm. But a second rap came, and then a third, louder than either of the others.

     '"It is some poor traveller," said little Hans to himself, and he ran to the door.

     'There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in the other.

     '"Dear little Hans," cried the Miller, "I am in great trouble. My little boy has fallen off a ladder and hurt himself, and I am going for the Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it is such a bad night, that it has just occurred to me that it would be much better if you went instead of me. You know I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, and so it is only fair that you should do something for me in return."

     '"Certainly," cried little Hans, "I take it quite as a compliment your coming to me, and I will start off at once. But you must lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch."

     '"I am very sorry," answered the Miller, "but it is my new lantern, and it would be a great loss to me if anything happened to it."

     '"Well, never mind, I will do without it," cried little Hans, and he took down his great fur coat, and his warm scarlet cap, and tied a muffler round his throat, and started off.

     'What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he could scarcely stand. However, he was very courageous, and after he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor's house, and knocked at the door.

     '"Who is there?"' cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his bedroom window.

     '"Little Hans, Doctor."

     '"What do you want, little Hans?"

     '"The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself, and the Miller wants you to come at once."

     '"All right!" said the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his big boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in the direction of the Miller's house, little Hans trudging behind him.

     'But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in torrents, and little Hans could not see where he was going, or keep up with the horse. At last he lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, which was a very dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and there poor little Hans was drowned. His body was found the next day by some goatherds, floating in a great pool of water, and was brought back by them to the cottage. 'Everybody went to little Hans's funeral, as he was so popular, and the Miller was the chief mourner.

     '"As I was his best friend," said the Miller, "it is only fair that I should have the best place;" so he walked at the head of the procession in a long black cloak, and every now and then he wiped his eyes with a big pocket-handkerchief.

     '"Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one," said the Blacksmith, when the funeral was over, and they were all seated comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine and eating sweet cakes.

     '"A great loss to me at any rate," answered the Miller; "why, I had as good as given him my wheelbarrow, and now I really don't know what to do with it. It is very much in my way at home, and it is in such bad repair that I could not get anything for it if I sold it. I will certainly take care not to give away anything again. One always suffers for being generous."

     'Well?' said the Water-rat, after a long pause. 'Well, that is the end,' said the Linnet.

     'But what became of the Miller?' asked the Water-rat. 'Oh! I really don't know,' replied the Linnet, 'and I am sure that I don't care.'

     'It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your nature,' said the Water-rat.

     'I am afraid you don't quite see the moral of the story,' remarked the Linnet.

     'The what?' screamed the Water-rat.

     'The moral.'

     'Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?'

     'Certainly,' said the Linnet.

     'Well, really,' said the Water-rat, in a very angry manner, 'I think you should have told me that before you began. If you had done so, I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact, I should have said "Pooh," like the critic. However, I can say it now;' so he shouted out 'Pooh' at the top of his voice, gave a whisk with his tail, and went back into his hole.

     'And how do you like the Water-rat?' asked the Duck, who came paddling up some minutes afterwards. 'He has a great many good points, but for my own part I have a mother's feelings, and I can never look at a confirmed bachelor without the tears coming into my eyes.'

     'I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him,' answered the Linnet. 'The fact is, that I told him a story with a moral.

     'Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do,' said the Duck.

     And I quite agree with her.