Fables, Fairy Tales, Mother Goose Jingles, Collections of Anecdotes, all hark back to these jesting stories of the ancient Orientals. Probably the oldest and most important link in the tracing of Indo-European Folk Lore is found in the Fables of Pilpay, or Bidpai. This is the Arabic translation of the Pahlavi translation of the Sanscrit original of the Panchatantra. The scope of the work is advice for the conduct of princes, offered in the guise of beast fables, and perhaps containing much of the material commonly attributed to Æsop. Little or nothing is known of Pilpay, and his era has been variously placed at different dates between 100 B.C. and 300 B.C. Others, indeed, declare that Pilpay was not an individual but the name is that of a bidbah, the court scholar of an Indian prince. The fables, as may be seen from the following selections, inculcate the moral teachings by means of stories about animals, to whom are attributed the thoughts and impulses of men. Kalidasa, called the greatest poet and dramatist of India, is also of uncertain origin and birth date. He probably lived early in the Christian Era, and his writings, though not strictly humorous are instinct with the spirit of satire. KALIDASA _HUNTING WITH A KING_ MATHAVYA, _a Jester_ _Mathavya._ Heigh-ho, what an unfortunate fellow I am, worn to a shadow by my royal friend’s sporting propensities! “Here’s a deer!” “There goes a boar!” “Yonder’s a tiger!” This is the constant subject of his remarks, while we tramp about in the heat of the day from jungle to jungle on paths where the trees give us no shade. If we are thirsty, we can get nothing to drink but some dirty water from a mountain stream full of dry leaves, tasting vilely bitter. If we are hungry, we are obliged to eat tough, flavorless game, and have to gulp it down at odd times as best we can. Even at night I have no peace. Sleeping is out of the question, with my bones all aching from trotting after my sporting friend; or, if I do contrive to doze, I am awakened at early dawn by the horrible din of a lot of rascally beaters and huntsmen, who must needs begin their deafening operations before sunrise. But these are not my only troubles; for here’s a fresh grievance, like a new boil rising upon an old one: Yesterday, while some of us were lagging behind, my royal friend went into a hermit’s enclosure after a deer, and there--worse luck--he caught sight of a beautiful girl called Sakuntala, the hermit’s daughter. From that moment not a single thought did he have of returning to town; and all night long not a wink of sleep did he get for his thoughts of the girl. But see--here he comes! I will pretend to stand in the easiest attitude for resting my bruised and crippled limbs. _Enter_ KING DUSHYANTA