Page:The talking thrush and other tales from India.djvu/40

 In the morning the Merchant asked for his mule.

"I am very sorry," said the Miller; "he must have got loose last night, and I can't find him anywhere."

The Merchant was much dismayed. He went out to look for himself, and there, to be sure, was his mule, tied by the halter to the mill.

"Why, look here. Miller," says he, "here is the mule!"

"Oh no," says the Miller, "that mule is mine."

"Yours?" said the Merchant, getting angry. "Last night your stable was empty. And don't you think I know my own mule?"

"That is mine," said the Miller again; "my mill had a young mule in the night, and that is he."

The Merchant was now very angry indeed; but he could not help himself,