their own, they too tell to wide-eyed audiences the tales which they
themselves found so thrilling in their own childhood. Indian nursery
tales, it is true, have a more religious tinge than those of Europe,
but they are none the less appreciated on that account. The first six
stories in this little book purport to explain the connexion between
the heavenly bodies and the days of the week. So each day of the week
has its separate tale. And all through Shravan or August, probably
because it is the wettest month in the year, Deccan mothers tell afresh
every week-day that day's story. And little Deccan children listen
to the tales as they fall due with the same unvarying attention. For
in nurseries, Indian as well as English, tales are loved the better
when no longer new, and where the end is well known to, and therefore
the better understood by, the tiny round-eyed listeners.

Now this is the tale which is told every Sunday [2] in Shravan: Once
upon a time there was a town called Atpat, and in it there lived a
poor Brahman. Every day he used to go into the woods to fetch sticks
and to cut grass. One day he met there some nymphs and wood-fairies,
who said that they were performing holy rites in honour of the sun. He
asked, "What are these rites?" They replied, "If we tell you, you will
become proud and vain and you will not perform them properly." But the
Brahman promised, "No, I shall not become proud or vain and I shall
observe the rites you tell me." They then told him that the month of
Shravan was coming, and that on the first Sunday of Shravan he was
to draw a picture of the sun with red sandal paste, that he was to
offer to the drawing flowers and fruit, and that he should continue
doing this for six months. Thereafter he should in various ways,
which they told him, entertain guests and give alms to the poor.

The Brahman went home and performed the rites to the letter, so that