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The Panchatantra, one of the world's greatest collections of tales, was compiled in India by a learned Brahmin named Vishnu Sharman, more than 2,000 years ago. These stories were meant to impart worldly wisdom to the dull-witted sons of a king, and have since travelled the world, awakening intelligence in readers across centuries. This book is a rare coming together of simple format, rich poetry, practical wisdom and lofty ideals, a vehicle to transmit the simple and timeless truths of the Panchatantra in a concise manner to a modern audience.
he was gone, a black snake issued from his hole and, as fate would have it, crawled toward the baby’s cradle. But the mungoose feeling him to be a natural enemy, and fearing for the life of his baby brother, fell upon the vicious serpent halfway, joined battle with him, tore him to bits, and tossed the pieces far and wide. Then, delighted with his own heroism, he ran, blood trickling from his mouth, to meet the mother; for he wished to show what he had done. But when the mother saw him coming,
“Yes,” said the weaver, “you are right. But tell me what to ask for.” And she replied: “As it is, you turn out one piece of cloth a day, and this meets all our expenses. Now ask for a second pair of arms and an extra head, so that you may produce one piece of cloth in front and another behind. The price of one meets the household expenses, with the price of the other you may put on style and spend the time in honor among your peers.” On hearing this, he was delighted and said: “Splendid, my
pain. Time and again this note is struck — the difficulty and the inestimable reward of sturdy action. Perhaps the most splendid expression of this essential part of niti is found in the third book, in the words which the crow, Live-Strong, addresses to his king, Cloudy: A noble purpose to attain Desiderates extended pain, Asks man’s full greatness, pluck, and care, And loved ones aiding with a prayer. Yet if it climb to heart’s desire, What man of pride and fighting fire, Of passion and
went home and asked his father’s help. “Father dear,” said he, “the dinars are in my hand. They only require one little word from you. This very night I am going to hide you out of sight in a hole in the mimosa tree that grows near the spot where I dug out the treasure before. In the morning you must be my witness in the presence of the magistrates.” “Oh, my son,” said the father, “we are both lost. This is no kind of a scheme. There is wisdom in the old story: The good and bad of given schemes
affairs a dog made water in the dish of grain, and she thought when she saw it: “Dear me! See how shrewd fate is, when it has turned against you. Even these poor sesame grains it has made unfit to eat. Well, I will take them to some neighbor’s house, and make an exchange, unhulled for hulled. For anybody will bargain on those terms.” So she put her grain in a basket and went from house to house, saying: “Who cares to exchange sesame unhulled for sesame hulled?” Now she happened to enter with her