The Jackal and the Iguana

One moonlight night, a miserable, half-starved jackal, skulking

through the village, found a worn-out pair of shoes in the gutter.

They were too tough for him to eat, so, determined to make some use of

them, he strung them to his ears like earrings, and, going down to the

edge of the pond, gathered all the old bones he could find together,

and built a platform with them, plastering it over with mud.

On this he sat in a dignified attitude, and when any animal came to

the pond to drink, he cried out in a loud voice, 'Hi! stop! You must

not taste a drop till you have done homage to me. So repeat these

verses, which I have composed in honour of the occasion:--

'Silver is his daïs, plastered o'er with gold;

In his ears are jewels,--some prince I must behold!'

Now, as most of the animals were very thirsty, and in a great hurry to

drink, they did not care to dispute the matter, but gabbled off the

words without a second thought. Even the royal tiger, treating it as

a jest, repeated the jackal's rhyme, in consequence of which the

latter became quite cock-a-hoop, and really began to believe he was a

personage of great importance.

By and by an iguana, or big lizard, came waddling and wheezing down to

the water, looking for all the world like a baby alligator.

'Hi! you there!' sang out the jackal; 'you mustn't drink until you

have said--

'Silver is his daïs, plastered o'er with gold; In his ears are

jewels,--some prince I must behold!'

'Pouf! pouf! pouf!' gasped the iguana. 'Mercy on us, how dry my

throat is! Mightn't I have just a wee sip of water first? and then I

could do justice to your admirable lines; at present I am as hoarse as

a crow!'

'By all means!' replied the jackal, with a gratified smirk. 'I

flatter myself the verses _are_ good, especially when well

recited.'

So the iguana, nose down into the water, drank away, until the jackal

began to think he would never leave off, and was quite taken aback

when he finally came to an end of his draught, and began to move away.

'Hi! hi!' cried the jackal, recovering his presence of mind;' stop a

bit, and say--

'Silver is his daïs, plastered o'er with gold;

In his ears are jewels,--some prince I must behold!'

'Dear me!' replied the iguana, politely, 'I was very nearly

forgetting! Let me see--I must try my voice first--Do, re, me, fa,

sol, la, si,--that is right! Now, how does it run?'

'Silver is his daïs, plastered o'er with gold;

In his ears are jewels,--some prince I must behold!'

repeated the jackal, not observing that the lizard was carefully

edging farther and farther away.

'Exactly so,' returned the iguana; 'I think I could say that!'

Whereupon he sang out at the top of his voice--

'Bones make up his daïs, with mud it's plastered o'er,

Old shoes are his ear-drops: a jackal, nothing more!'

And turning round, he bolted for his hole as hard as he could.

The jackal could scarcely believe his ears, and sat dumb with

astonishment. Then, rage lending him wings, he flew after the lizard,

who, despite his short legs and scanty breath, put his best foot

foremost, and scuttled away at a great rate.

It was a near race, however, for just as he popped into his hole, the

jackal caught him by the tail, and held on. Then it was a case of

'pull butcher, pull baker,' until the lizard made certain his tail

must come off, and the jackal felt as if his front teeth would come

out. Still not an inch did either budge, one way or the other, and

there they might have remained till the present day, had not the

iguana called out, in his sweetest tones, 'Friend, I give in! Just

leave hold of my tail, will you? then I can turn round and come out.'

Whereupon the jackal let go, and the tail disappeared up the hole in a

twinkling; while all the reward the jackal got for digging away until

his nails were nearly worn out, was hearing the iguana sing softly--

'Bones make up his daïs, with mud it's plastered o'er,

Old shoes are his ear-drops: a jackal, nothing more!'