“Joy, joy!” exclaimed the vizier’s son. “There is yet time for me to return and save my father from an ignominious and unjust death, and the king from danger.” The following day he hastened back to his own country, taking with him the farmer’s daughter. Immediately on arrival he ran to the palace and informed his father of what he had heard. The poor vizier, now almost dead from the expectation of death, was at once carried to the king, to whom he repeated the news that his son had just brought. “Never!” said the king. “But it must be so, Your Majesty,” replied the vizier; “and in order to prove the truth of what I have heard, I pray you call together all the maids in your palace, and order them to jump over a pit, which must be dug. We’ll soon find out whether there is any man there.” The king had time pit dug, and commanded all the maids belonging to the palace to try to jump it. All of them tried, but only one succeeded. That one was found to be a man! Thus was the queen satisfied, and the faithful old vizier saved. Afterward, as soon as could be, the vizier’s son married the old farmer’s daughter; and a most happy marriage it was. THE FARMER AND THE MONEY LENDER By Joseph Jacobs There was ounce a farmer who suffered much at time hands of the money lender. Good harvests, or bad, the farmer was always poor, the money lender rich. At the last, when he hadn’t a farthing left, the farmer went to the money lender’s house, and said, “You can’t squeeze water from a stone, and as you have nothing to get by me now, you might tell me the secret of becoming rich.” “My friend,” returned the money lender, piously, “riches come from Ram—ask _him_.” “Thank you, I will!” replied the simple farmer; so he prepared three griddle cakes to last him on the journey, and set out to find Ram. First he met a Brahman, and to him he gave a cake asking him to point out the road to Ram; but the Brahman only took the cake and went on his way without a word. Next the farmer met a Jogi or devotee, and to him he gave a cake, without receiving any help in return. At last, he came upon a poor man sitting under a tree, and finding out he was hungry, the kindly farmer gave him his last cake, and sitting clown to rest beside him, entered into conversation. “And where are you going?” asked the poor man, at length. “Oh, I have a long journey before me, for I am going to find Ram!” replied the farmer. “I don’t suppose you could tell me which way to go?” “Perhaps I can,” said the poor man, smiling, “for I am Ram! What do you want of me?” Then the farmer told the whole story, and Rain, taking pity on him, gave him a conch shell, and showed him how to blow it in a particular way, saying, “Remember! whatever you wish for, you have only to blow the conch that way, and your wish will be fulfilled. Only have a care of that money lender, for even magic is not proof against their wiles!”