A man was poor, and his wife nagged him every day for being such a lazy good-for-nothing. The poor fellow would listen to all her abuse patiently, slip out of the house whenever he could, and stay out till it felt safe to come home.

One day, her anger boiled over. She scraped together whatever stale food remained in her pots, tied it up in a dirty cloth, thrust it into his hand, and sent him packing. "Go somewhere, anywhere, and earn something. And don´t you come back till you do!" she said, as she slammed the door.

The man took his bundle of cold rice and trudged out of the village. He walked and walked for miles till he came to place where three roads crossed. A huge banyan tree had grown up there and had lent its shade to weary travelers for many years. The man was tired and his legs ached. He sat down under the tree. He tied his bundle of rice to one of its branches and soon he was fast asleep, his head pillowed on the roots of the banyan.

Now, there were forest spirits living in the banyan tree. They sighted the sleeping man below and the bundle of rice on the branch above him. They wanted to taste his dinner. No sooner did they think of it than it was done. What´s more, they liked that cold rice very much. They had tasted nectar and all the dishes of heaven, but this was something new. They had never tasted stale rice before. It had a wonderful flavor of its own. What a change from their dull routine of ambrosia and fruit from heaven´s trees!

The few handfuls of rice in the poor man´s bundle were just enough for a round among the forest spirits. They were pleased and thought they should give their poor sleeping host something in return for the food they had taken away.

When the poor man woke up, he was hungry and looked for his bundle. When he found it, the food was gone. In its place, there were four oddlooking empty bowls. Raging with hunger, he banged the bowls on the ground. At once, several lovely women appeared before him with all sorts of divine dishes in their hands, ready to serve him. He was dumbstruck by the magic of it all, but he was too hungry to be frightened or ask questions. As he fell to, the lovely women served him gently, silently, attended to his slightest gesture, and treated him like a god. Soon he came to believe that he was indeed master of these nymphs. His marvelous dinner over, his heavenly servants disappeared without a trace, leaving the four empty bowls behind them.

Praying gratefully to all the gods, he picked up the empty bowls with great respect. He held them to his bosom and hastened home, big with his story. When she heard it, his wife nearly burst with joy. They placed the magic bowls at the feet of their household gods and looked at them again and again to make sure they were still there. They could not believe their own good fortune. They felt they should use their god-given gift worshipfully, only after offering public prayers to the gods and charity to their neighbors.

Even as the next day dawned, the man was out of the house. He went to every door and invited every family in the village, rich and poor alike. Everyone was skeptical. Some laughed outright. Some thought it was a practical joke, some that the man must be crazy. They quoted a proverb: "The guests of the poor come back home early."

The guests gathered by noon in the small hovel. Many of them had taken the precaution of eating well before they arrived. They came just to see what was happening, and were they surprised!

The poor man and his wife brought forth four odd-looking vessels and very respectfully requested them to bestow upon the guests their gracious gifts. And lo and behold! dozens of lovely women, each lovelier than the next, adorned to the fingertips, rose out of the bowls. In their hands were plates full of the daintiest dishes. Silver platters appeared from nowhere before the bewildered guests, and service began.

As the guests ate, new dishes arrived by the dozen and the heavenly women served them so readily that everyone felt that they forestalled one´s slightest wishes. The guests were fed till they were ready to burst. They had trouble getting up and carrying themselves home.

The village buzzed with the news. Everyone talked about it. The poor man, no longer poor, was the rage for months.

Now, there was a rich man in the village who thought no end of himself. He grew envious of the sudden wealth and the growing popularity of his neighbor who till yesterday had been a penniless beggar. He paid a visit to his fellow villager one day and was treated to the miracle of the bowls and the lovely women who rose from them for the mere asking. He quickly made friends with their owner, gave him and his wife gifts, and soon wormed the secret out of them.

"It´s so easy," he thought. "There´s nothing to it." He hurried home and ordered his best cook to make the most sumptuous dishes at once. Next morning, he traveled in a palanquin, as fast as his bearers could take him, and arrived at the spot where three roads crossed. He carefully arranged a big basket full of the finest dishes that money could command, right under the banyan tree. Then he dismissed his servants till evening, and composed himself as if for sleep. Of course, he wasn´t going to sleep. He was too curious to see the forest spirits and what they would do. He lay there for a long time till somehow sleep stole over him. When he woke up, all in a hurry, he saw beside him four odd-looking bowls. And his basket was empty.

He had succeeded. Of course, he had never once doubted he would. After all, he had brought for the spirits in the banyan tree the tastiest, the richest, the most royal of all human dishes. How could they help giving him what he wanted? Here they were, in full view, the magic bowls!

He hurried home, asking his palanquin bearers to go faster. He called his entire household and sent them running with the news and invitations to every family in the village.

People from all corners flocked to his dining hall. Their mouths watered at the memory of the recent banquet. Here was another, and a rich man´s, too! Many starved themselves all day to do justice to his hospitality.

The rich man beamed at his guests and motioned them to their seats. Servants brought in the bowls with great ceremony and placed them on a pedestal. His head wrapped in a lace turban, wearing earrings and turquoises, their master stood before the bowls and loudly ordered them to bring forth a divine banquet for everyone assembled. Hardly had his voice stopped ringing when out came dozens of big burly men. They looked like wrestlers. They had rolls of muscle on their arms, and their looks would have scared the bravest of men. They came out of the bowls and went after the host and his hungry guests. They seized them one by one, whipped out gleaming razors, and with great gusto shaved every head in the hall, shaved them so close that every head was clean and shiny like a bronze bowl. Not a single guest escaped the barbers´ banquet, not even the wives.

And as the terrified guests crawled out, a muscular fellow at the door held up a large mirror to their faces and forced them to take a good long look at themselves before they left the hall, never to return.

A dove laid an egg in the hollow of a big tree in front of the blacksmith´s house. When she flew away from her nest in search of food, the blacksmith´s wife stole the egg. The dove came back to her nest and found the egg missing.

The dove knew at once that the blacksmith´s wife must have taken it. So she went to the woman and pleaded, "Give me back my egg, please."

The blacksmith´s wife pretended that she knew nothing about it and said, "What egg are you talking about? I didn´t see any egg." The dove was heartbroken and flew about looking for help. On the way she met a pig, who asked, "Why are you crying, little bird?"

She said, "O pig, can you help me? Will you dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

"No, not I," grunted the pig, walking away.

She then met a hunter, who asked, "Why are you in tears, little bird?"

The bird said, "Will you shoot an arrow at the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

"Why should I? Leave me out of this," said the hunter, walking away.

The dove wept some more and flew on till she met a rat, who also asked why she was in tears. The dove said, "Will you gnaw and cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

The rat too said, "Not I," and went his own way.

Next she met a cat, who asked, "What´s the matter, little bird?"

"Will you catch the rat who wouldn´t cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

The cat would rather mind her own business.

The poor dove was beside herself with anger and grief. Her wails attracted the attention of a passing dog, who asked her what was bothering her. She said, "Will you bite the cat who wouldn´t catch the rat who wouldn´t cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

"No, not I," said the dog and ran away.

The dove´s wails grew louder and louder.

An old man with a long white beard came that way and asked the crying bird what the matter was. She said, "Grandfather, will you beat the dog who wouldn´t bite the cat who wouldn´t catch the rat who wouldn´t cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

The old man didn´t want to do anything of the sort and shook his head and went his way.

The dove next went to the fire for help and asked it to burn the white beard of the old man, but the fire wouldn´t do it. Next the dove went to the water and asked it to put out the fire which wouldn´t burn the beard of the old man who refused to beat the dog who wouldn´t bite the cat who wouldn´t catch the rat who wouldn´t cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole the egg. Water too was unwilling to help.

Not long afterwards, the dove met an elephant and asked if he would stir up the water which wouldn´t put out the fire which refused to burn the beard of the old man who wouldn´t . . .

The elephant said, "No, not I."

Then the dove looked about and found a black ant, who also asked her what was troubling her.

"O ant! I know you can help me. Will you go into the elephant´s trunk and bite him for not stirring up the water which wouldn´t put out the fire which wouldn´t burn the beard of the old man who wouldn´t beat the dog who wouldn´t bite the cat who wouldn´t catch the rat who wouldn´t cut the bowstring of the hunter who wouldn´t shoot the pig who wouldn´t dig up the yams of the blacksmith´s wife who stole my egg?"

"Why not? Here I go," said the ant and crawled inside the elephant´s trunk and bit it in the softest place, very hard. This made the elephant dash into the pool of water and stir it up. The water splashed and began to put out the fire, which went mad and burned the white beard of the old man, who beat the dog, who ran after the cat and bit her. The cat caught the rat, who gnawed the bowstring of the hunter´s bow. The hunter tied on a new one and shot an arrow at the pig, who went and dug up all the yams of the blacksmith´s wife.

The blacksmith´s wife knew at once what she had to do and carefully put the dove´s egg back in the nest in the hollow of the big tree.

That´s how the dove got her egg back.