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HERE was once a king who had vast possessions. Everything that the world could give was his, save one thing only. He was childless, and the fact that he had no son was taken as a sign of the displeasure of the gods. So in spite of his rank and prestige, he was looked down upon as an antkoorha.

One day, at dawn, the sweeper was at work in the palace in the very apartment next to that in which the king slept. The latter, roused by the noise, came out of his room and saw the sweeper, who, to avoid seeing a childless man's face at the beginning of a new day, covered his eyes with his hands. The king observed this, and was astonished to find that he was an object of aversion even to a sweeper. From that time he became very sad and morose, and a smile was seldom seen on his face. Heaven, however, at last took pity on him. One day Bidhátápúrush, disguised as a religious mendicant, with a bright lamp of gold in his hand, visited him, and speaking words of consolation said, "O king, do not despair. Bright days are yet to come. Take this lamp, and with it go to that tank of yours which is called the tank of life. You