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Rh  Yes, mathematics fails to count
 * His lofty virtues through;

Yet he, in deep dejection sunk,
 * Has come to visit you."

"And what," said Slow, "is the cause of his gloom?" "That," said the crow, "I asked him yonder. But he put me off, saying: 'It is a long story. I will tell you when we get there.' Now, my very dear Gold, pray tell us both the cause of your gloom."

And Gold told the story of

 

In the southern country is a city called Maidens' Delight, and in the neighborhood a shrine to Shiva. In a cell near by lived a hermit named Crop-Ear. During his begging hour he would fill his alms-bowl with dainties from the city, eatables jellified, melting in the mouth, toothsome, flavored with sugar, treacle, and pomegranate. Then, returning to his cell, he satisfied himself according to the ordinance, hid what food was left in the alms-bowl, and hung it on a peg, keeping it for the servants' breakfast. On this food I subsisted with my companions. And so the time passed.

Since I nibbled his food, however carefully he hid it, the hermit was disgusted, and in fear of me he moved it from place to place, always hanging it higher. Even so I got at it easily enough and ate it.

Now one day a guest arrived, a holy man named Wide-Bottom. And Crop-Ear welcomed him, paid 