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years ago, in a certain kingdom, there was a small village, in which lived a man whose brother had died a little while before, leaving behind him a son called Senka the Little, who was an arrant thief. Though his father had placed him in many a school and many a place of business, Senka would learn and do nothing.

"Why do you not try and learn?" his father and mother would ask him. "Do you wish to remain a fool all your life?"

"If you wish to see me earn my bread and salt," Senka would reply; "you must let me go somewhere to learn the art of theft properly. I will look at no other science. I shall do nothing but steal; I have no talent for anything else."

So Senka the Little stayed at home doing nothing until his father died, and then he did not stop to think, but went straight to his uncle, his father's brother, saying,—

"Come, uncle, I want to learn the art of theft now. While you do the stealing, I will look on and see how you do it, and also help you when necessary."

"All right, come along!" said the uncle; and they started off on their journey.

They went on and on until they came to a marshy