"'Twill hearten us all up ere we sleep, since there is naught else to be done." "That will I, mother," replied Old Faithful with alacrity, "and in the very words of my revered master as written in that book of books, his Memoirs, which doubtless the most Learned-of-the-Universe will read some day." Mirak, who was back at his cat's cradle, looked up with grave superiority.
"Nay, slave! They shall read it to Akbar.

He will be King." "Hark to him!" ejaculated Foster-mother, delighted.

"His words are all fortunate." "We have need of more fortune by works, not words, woman," said Foster-father sternly.

"So proceed, friend Faithful; the recitation of brave deeds can never come amiss." Old Faithful settled himself by the fire and began.

"First you must know that Firdoos Gita Makani, or Babar the brave, had to get back to Kabul, because wicked men were waiting to be punished.