“Thou seest, then,” said Golden-skin, “there can be no friendship between food and feeder.”

“I should hardly,” replied the Crow, “get a large breakfast out of your worship; but as to that indeed you have nothing to fear from me.  I am not often angry, and if I were, you know—­

    ’Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm: 
    Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm.’

“Then, also, thou art such a gad-about,” objected the King.

“Maybe,” answered Light o’ Leap; “but I am bent on winning thy friendship, and I will die at thy door of fasting if thou grantest it not.  Let us be friends! for

    ’Noble hearts are golden vases—­close the bond true metals make;
    Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break. 
    Evil hearts are earthen vessels—­at a touch they crack a-twain,
    And what craftsman’s ready cunning can unite the shards again?’

And then, too,

    ’Good men’s friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart;
    Snap the stem of Luxmee’s lotus, and its fibres will not part.’

“Good sir,” said the King of the Mice, “your conversation is as pleasing as pearl necklets or oil of sandal-wood in hot weather.  Be it as you will”—­and thereon King Golden-skin made a treaty with the Crow, and after gratifying him with the best of his store reentered his hole.  The Crow returned to his accustomed perch:—­and thenceforward the time passed in mutual presents of food, in polite inquiries, and the most unrestrained talk.  One day Light o’ Leap thus accosted Golden-skin:—­

“This is a poor place, your Majesty, for a Crow to get a living in.  I should like to leave it and go elsewhere.”

“Whither wouldst thou go?” replied the King; they say,

    ’One foot goes, and one foot stands,
    When the wise man leaves his lands.’

“And they say, too,” answered the Crow,

    ’Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoever the hero come,
    Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or win for him a home.

    Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie—­
    When he enters it be certain that a royal prey shall die,’

“I know an excellent jungle now.”

“Which is that?” asked the Mouse-king.

“In the Nerbudda woods, by Camphor-water,” replied the Crow.  “There is an old and valued friend of mine lives there—­Slow-toes his name is, a very virtuous Tortoise; he will regale me with fish and good things.”

“Why should I stay behind,” said Golden-skin, “if thou goest?  Take me also.”

Accordingly, the two set forth together, enjoying charming converse upon the road.  Slow-toes perceived Light o’ Leap a long way off, and hastened to do him the guest-rites, extending them to the Mouse upon Light o’ Leap’s introduction.