Once upon a time a Jackal and a Pea-hen swore eternal friendship. Every day they had their meals together, and spent hours in pleasant conversation.

Now, one day, the Pea-hen had juicy plums for dinner, and the Jackal, for his part, had as juicy a young kid; so they enjoyed themselves immensely. But when the feast was over, the Pea-hen rose gravely, and, after scratching up the ground, carefully sowed all the plum-stones in a row.

"It is my custom to do so when I eat plums," she said, with quite an aggravating¹ air of complacent² virtue³; "my mother, good creature, brought me up in excellent habits, and with her dying breath bade me never be wasteful⁴. Now these stones will grow into trees, the fruit of which, even if I do not live to see the day, will afford a meal to many a hungry peacock."

These words made the Jackal feel rather mean, so he answered loftily, "Exactly so! I always plant my bones for the same reason." And he carefully dug up a piece of ground, and sowed the bones of the kid at intervals⁵.

After this, the pair used to come every day and look at their gardens; by and by the plum-stones shot into tender green stems, but the bones made never a sign.

"Bones do take a long time germinating," remarked the Jackal, pretending to be quite at his ease; "I have known them remain unchanged in the ground for months."

"My dear sir," answered the Pea-hen, with ill-concealed irony⁶, "I have known them remain so for years!"

So time passed on, and every day, when they visited the garden, the self-complacent Pea-hen became more and more sarcastic⁷, the Jackal more and more savage⁸.

At last the plum-trees blossomed and bore fruit, and the Pea-hen sat down to a perfect feast of ripe juicy plums.

"He! he!" sniggered she to the Jackal, who, having been unsuccessful in hunting that day, stood by dinnerless, hungry, and in consequence very cross; "what a time those old bones of yours do take in coming up! But when they do, my! what a crop you'll have!"

The Jackal was bursting with rage, but she wouldn't take warning, and went on: "Poor dear! you do look hungry! There seems some chance of your starving before harvest. What a pity it is you can't eat plums in the meantime!"

"If I can't eat plums, I can eat the plum-eater!" quoth the Jackal; and with that he pounced⁹ on the Pea-hen, and gobbled her up.

Moral--It is never safe to be wiser than one's friends.