_THE JACKAL, THE BARBER AND THE BRAHMIN WHO HAD SEVEN DAUGHTERS._
A Barber and a Jackal once struck up a great friendship, which might
have continued to this day, had not the Jackal been so clever that the
Barber never felt quite on equal terms with him, and suspected his
friend of playing him many tricks. But this he was not able to prove.
One day the Jackal said to the Barber, "It would be a nice thing for
us to have a garden of our own, in which we might grow as many
cucumbers, pumpkins and melons as we like. Why should we not buy one?"
The Barber answered, "Very well; here is money. Do you go and buy us a
garden." So the Jackal took the Barber's money, and with it bought a
fine garden, in which were cucumbers, pumpkins, melons, figs, and many
other good fruits and vegetables. And he used to go there every day
and feast to his heart's content. When, however, the Barber said to
him, "What is the garden like which you bought with the money I gave
you?" he answered, "There are very fine plants in it, but there is no
fruit upon them; when the fruit is ripe I will let you know." This
reply satisfied the Barber, who inquired no further at that time.
A little while afterward, the Barber again asked the Jackal about the
garden, saying, "I see you go down to that garden every day; is the
fruit getting ripe?" "Oh dear no, not yet," answered the Jackal; "why,
the plants are only just coming into blossom."
But all this time there was a great deal of fruit in the garden, and
the Jackal went there every day and ate as much as he could.
Again, a third time, when some weeks had passed, the Barber said to
him, "Is there no ripe fruit in our garden yet?" "No," said the
Jackal; "the blossoms have only just fallen, but the fruit is forming.
In time we shall have a fine show of melons and figs there."
Then the Barber began to think the Jackal was deceiving him, and
determined to see and judge for himself. So next day, without saying
anything about it, he followed him down to the garden.
Now it happened that very day the Jackal had invited all his friends
to come and feast there. All the animals in the neighboring jungle had
accepted the invitation; there they came trooping by hundreds and
dozens, and were very merry indeed--running here and there, and eating
all the melons and cucumbers and figs and pumpkins in the place.
The Barber peeped over the hedge, and saw the assembled wild beasts,
and his friend the Jackal entertaining them--talking to this one,
laughing with that, and eating with all. The good man did not dare to
attack the intruders, as they were many and powerful. But he went home
at once, very angry, muttering to himself, "I'll be the death of that
young jackanapes; he shall play no more pranks in my garden." And,
watching his opportunity, he returned there when the Jackal and all
his friends had left, and tied a long knife to the largest of the
cucumbers that still remained; then he went home and said nothing of
what he had seen.
Early next morning the Jackal thought to himself, "I'll just run down
to the garden and see if there are no cucumbers or melons left." So he
went there, and, picking out the largest of the cucumbers, began to
eat it. Quick as thought, the long knife, that was concealed by the
cucumber leaves, ran into him, cutting his muzzle, his neck and his
side.
"Ah, that nasty Barber!" he cried; "this must be his doing!" And
instead of going home, he ran as fast as he could, very far, far, away
into the jungle, and stretching himself out on a great flat rock,
prepared to die.
But he did not die. Only for three whole days the pain in his neck and
side was so great that he could not move; moreover, he felt very weak
from loss of blood.
At the end of the third day he tried to get up, but his own blood had
sealed him to the stone! He endeavored to move it by his struggles,
but could not succeed. "Oh dear! oh dear!" he murmured; "to think that
I should recover from my wound, only to die such a horrible death as
this! Ah me! here is the punishment of dishonesty!" And, having said
this, he began to weep. It chanced, however, that the god of Rain
heard his lamentations, and taking pity on the unfortunate animal, he
sent a kindly shower, which, wetting the stone, effected his release.
No sooner was the Jackal set free than he began to think what he could
do to earn a livelihood, since he did not dare return to the Barber's
house. It was not long before a feasible plan struck him: all around
was the mud made by the recent rain; he placed a quantity of it in a
small chattee, covered the top over carefully with leaves (as people
do jars of fresh butter), and took it into a neighboring village to
sell.
At the door of one of the first houses to which he came stood a woman,
to whom the Jackal said, "Mahi, here is butter--beautiful fresh
butter! won't you buy some fresh butter?" She answered, "Are you sure
it is quite fresh? Let me see it." But he replied, "It is perfectly
fresh; but if you open the chattee now, it will be all spoilt by the
time you want it. If you like to buy it, you may take it; if not, I
will sell it to some one else." The woman did want some fresh butter,
and the chattee the Jackal carried on his head was carefully fastened
up, as if what it contained was of the best; and she knew if she
opened it, it might spoil before her husband returned home; besides,
she thought, if the Jackal had intended to deceive her, he would have
been more pressing in asking her to buy it. So she said, "Very well,
give me the chattee; here is money for you. You are sure it is the
best butter?" "It is the best of its kind," answered the Jackal; "only
be sure you put it in some cool place, and don't open it till it is
wanted." And taking the money, he ran away.
A short time afterward the woman discovered how she had been cheated,
and was very angry; but the Jackal was by that time far away, out of
reach of punishment.
When his money was spent, the Jackal felt puzzled as to how to get a
living, since no one would give him food and he could buy none.
Fortunately for him, just then one of the bullocks belonging to the
village died. The Jackal found it lying dead by the road-side, and he
began to eat it, and ate, and ate so much that at last he had got too
far into the animal's body to be seen by passers-by. Now the weather
was hot and dry. Whilst the Jackal was in it, the bullock's skin
crinkled up so tightly with the heat that it became too hard for him
to bite through, and so he could not get out again.
The Mahars[76] of the village all came out to bury the dead bullock.
The Jackal, who was inside it, feared that if they caught him they
would kill him, and that if they did not discover him, he would be
buried alive; so on their approach he called out, "People, people,
take care how you touch me, for I am a great saint." The poor people
were very much frightened when they heard the dead bullock talking,
and thought that some mighty spirit must indeed possess it.[77] "Who
are you, sir, and what do you want?" they cried. "I," answered the
Jackal, "am a very holy saint. I am also the god of your village, and
I am very angry with you because you never worship me nor bring me
offerings." "O my Lord," they cried, "what offerings will please you?
Tell us only, and we will bring you whatever you like." "Good," he
replied. "Then you must fetch here plenty of rice, plenty of flowers
and a nice fat chicken; place them as an offering beside me, and pour
a great deal of water over them, as you do at your most solemn feasts,
and I will forgive you your sins." The Mahars did as they were
commanded. They placed some rice and flowers, and the best chicken
they could procure, beside the bullock, and poured water over it and
the offering. Then, no sooner did the dry, hard bullock's skin get
wetted than it split in many places, and to the surprise of all his
worshipers, the Jackal jumped out, seized the chicken in his mouth,
and ran away with it through the midst of them into the jungle. The
Mahars ran after him over hedges and ditches for many, many miles, but
he got away in spite of them all.
[76] The lowest caste, employed as scavengers in every village.
[77] See Notes at the end.
On, on he ran--on, on, for a very long way--until at last he came to a
place where a little kid lived under a little sicakai[78] tree. All
her relations and friends were away, and when she saw him coming she
thought to herself, "Unless I frighten this Jackal, he will eat me."
So she ran as hard as she could up against the sicakai tree, which
made all the branches shake and the leaves go rustle, rustle, rustle.
And when the Jackal heard the rustling noise he got frightened, and
thought it was all the little kid's friends coming to help her. And
she called out to him, "Run away, Jackal, run away. Thousands and
thousands of Jackals have run away at that sound--run away for your
life." And the Jackal was so frightened that he ran away. So, he who
had deceived so many was outwitted by a simple little kid!
[78] _Acacia concinna._
After this the Jackal found his way back to his own village, where the
Barber lived, and there for some time he used to prowl round the
houses every night and live upon any bones he could find. The
villagers did not like his coming, but did not know how to catch him,
until one night his old friend the Barber (who had never forgiven him
for stealing the fruit from the garden) caught him in a great net,
having before made many unsuccessful attempts to do so. "Aha!" cried
the Barber, "I've got you at last, my friend. You did not escape death
from the cucumber-knife for nothing! you won't get away this time.
Here, wife! wife! see what a prize I've got." The Barber's wife came
running to the door, and the Barber gave her the Jackal (after he had
tied all his four legs firmly together with a strong rope), and said
to her, "Take this animal into the house, and be sure you don't let
him escape, while I go and get a knife to kill him with."
The Barber's wife did as she was bid, and taking the Jackal into the
house, laid him down on the floor. But no sooner had the Barber gone
than the Jackal said to her, "Ah, good woman, your husband will return
directly and put me to death. For the love of heaven, loosen the rope
round my feet before he comes, for one minute only, and let me drink a
little water from that puddle by the door, for my throat is parched
with thirst." "No, no, friend Jackal," answered the Barber's wife. "I
know well enough what you'll do. No sooner shall I have untied your
feet than you will run away, and when my husband returns and finds you
are gone, he will beat me."
"Indeed, indeed, I will not run away," he replied. "Ah, kind mother,
have pity on me, only for one little moment." Then the Barber's wife
thought, "Well, it is hard not to grant the poor beast's last request;
he will not live long enough to have many more pleasures." So she
untied the Jackal's legs and held him by a rope, that he might drink
from the puddle. But quick as possible, he gave a jump and a twist
and a pull, and, jerking the rope out of her hand, escaped once more
into the jungle.
For some time he roamed up and down, living on what he could get in
this village or that, until he had wandered very far away from the
country where the Barber lived. At last one day, by chance, he passed
a certain cottage, in which there dwelt a very poor Brahmin, who had
seven daughters.
As the Jackal passed by, the Brahmin was saying to himself, "Oh dear
me! what can I do for my seven daughters? I shall have to support them
all my life, for they are much too poor ever to get married. If a dog
or a jackal were to offer to take one off my hands, he should have
her." Next day the Jackal called on the Brahmin, and said to him, "You
said yesterday, if a jackal or a dog were to offer to marry one of
your daughters, you would let him have her; will you, therefore accept
me as a son-in-law?"
The poor Brahmin felt very much embarrassed, but it was certain he had
said the words, and therefore he felt in honor bound not to retract,
although he had little dreamed of ever being placed in such a
predicament. Just at that moment all the seven daughters began crying
for bread, and the father had no bread to give them. Observing this,
the Jackal continued, "Let me marry one of your seven daughters and I
will take care of her. It will at least leave you one less to provide
for, and I will see that she never needs food." Then the Brahmin's
heart was softened, and he gave the Jackal his eldest daughter in
marriage, and the Jackal took her home to his den in the high rocks.
Now you will say there never was a Jackal so clever as this. Very
true, for this was not a common Jackal, or he could never have done
all that I have told you. This Jackal was, in fact, a great Rajah in
disguise, who, to amuse himself, took the form of a Jackal; for he was
a great magician as well as a great prince.
The den to which he took the Brahmin's daughter looked like quite a
common hole in the rocks on the outside, but inside it was a splendid
palace, adorned with silver, and gold, and ivory and precious stones.
But even his own wife did not know that he was not always a Jackal,
for the Rajah never took his human form except every morning very
early, when he used to take off the jackal skin and wash it and brush
it, and put it on again.
After he and his wife, the Brahmin's daughter, had lived up in their
home in the rocks happily for some time, who should the Jackal see one
day but his father-in-law, the old Brahmin, climbing up the hill to
come and pay him a visit. The Jackal was vexed to see the Brahmin, for
he knew he was very poor, and thought he had most likely come to beg;
and so it was. The Brahmin said to him, "Son-in-law, let me come into
your cave and rest a little while. I want to ask you to help me, for I
am very poor and much in need of help."
"Don't go into my cave," said the Jackal; "it is but a poor hole, not
fit for you to enter" (for he did not wish his father-in-law to see
his fine palace); "but I will call my wife, that you may see I have
not eaten her up, and she and you and I will talk over the matter, and
see what we can do for you."
So the Brahmin, the Brahmin's daughter and the Jackal all sat down on
the hill-side together, and the Brahmin said, "I don't know what to do
to get food for myself, my wife and my six daughters. Son-in-law
Jackal, cannot you help me?" "It is a difficult business," answered
the Jackal, "but I'll do what I can for you;" and he ran to his cave
and fetched a large melon, and gave it to the Brahmin, saying,
"Father-in-law, you must take this melon, and plant it in your garden,
and when it grows up sell all the fruit you find upon it, and that
will bring you in some money." So the Brahmin took the melon home with
him and planted it in his garden.
By next day the melon that the Jackal had given him had grown up in
the Brahmin's garden into a fine plant, covered with hundreds of
beautiful ripe melons. The Brahmin, his wife and family were overjoyed
at the sight. And all the neighbors were astonished, and said, "How
fast that fine melon plant has grown in the Brahmin's garden!"
Now it chanced that a woman who lived in a house close by wanted some
melons, and seeing what fine ones these were, she went down at once to
the Brahmin's house and bought two or three from the Brahmin's wife.
She took them home with her and cut them open; but then, lo and
behold! marvel of marvels! what a wonderful sight astonished her!
Instead of the thick white pulp she expected to see, the whole of the
inside of the melon was composed of diamonds, rubies and emeralds, and
all the seeds were enormous pearls. She immediately locked her door,
and taking with her all the money she had, ran back to the Brahmin's
wife and said to her, "Those were very good melons you sold me; I like
them so much that I will buy all the others on your melon plant." And
giving her the money, she took home all the rest of the melons. Now
this cunning woman told none of her friends of the treasure she had
found, and the poor, stupid Brahmin and his family did not know what
they had lost, for they had never thought of opening any of the
melons; so that for all the precious stones they sold they only got a
few pice, which was very hard. Next day, when they looked out of the
window, the melon plant was again covered with fine ripe melons, and
again the woman who had bought those which had grown the day before
came and bought them all. And this went on for several days. There
were so many melons, and all the melons were so full of precious
stones, that the woman who bought them had enough to fill the whole of
one room in her house with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls.
At last, however, the wonderful melon plant began to wither, and when
the woman came to buy melons one morning, the Brahmin's wife was
obliged to say to her, in a sad voice, "Alas! there are no more melons
on our melon plant." And the woman went back to her own house very
much disappointed.
That day the Brahmin and his wife and children had no money in the
house to buy food with, and they all felt very unhappy to think that
the fine melon plant had withered. But the Brahmin's youngest
daughter, who was a clever girl, thought, "Though there are no more
melons fit to sell on our melon plant, perhaps I may be able to find
one or two shriveled ones, which, if cooked, will give us something
for dinner." So she went out to look, and searching carefully amongst
the thick leaves, found two or three withered little melons still
remaining. These she took into the house and began cutting them up to
cook, when--more wonderful than wonderful!--within each little melon
she found a number of small emeralds, rubies, diamonds and pearls! The
girl called her father and mother, and her five sisters, crying, "See
what I have found! See these precious stones and pearls. I dare say
inside all the melons we sold there were as good or better than these.
No wonder that woman was so anxious to buy them all! See, father--see,
mother--see, sisters!"
Then they were all overjoyed to see the treasure, but the Brahmin
said, "What a pity we have lost all the benefit of my son-in-law the
Jackal's good gift by not knowing its worth! I will go at once to that
woman, and try and make her give us back the melons she took."
So he went to the melon-buyer's house, and said to her, "Give me back
the melons you took from me, who did not know their worth." She
answered, "I don't know what you mean." He replied, "You were very
deceitful; you bought melons full of precious stones from us poor
people, who did not know what they were worth, and you only paid for
them the price of common melons: give me some of them back, I pray
you." But she said, "I bought common melons from your wife, and made
them all into common soup long ago; therefore talk no further nonsense
about jewels, but go about your business." And she turned him out of
the house. Yet all this time she had a whole roomful of the emeralds,
diamonds, rubies and pearls that she had found in the melons the
Brahmin's wife had sold her.
The Brahmin returned home and said to his wife, "I cannot make that
woman give me back any of the melons you sold her; but give me the
precious stones our daughter has just found, and I will sell them to
a jeweler and bring home some money." So he went to the town, and
took the precious stones to a jeweler, and said to him, "What will you
give me for these?" But no sooner did the jeweler see them than he
said, "How could such a poor man as you become possessed of such
precious stones? You must have stolen them: you are a thief! You have
stolen these from my shop, and now come to sell them to me!"
"No, no, sir; indeed no, sir," cried the Brahmin. "Thief, thief!"
shouted the jeweler. "In truth, no sir," said the Brahmin; "my
son-in-law, the Jackal, gave me a melon plant, and in one of the
melons I found these jewels." "I don't believe a word you say,"
screamed the jeweler (and he began beating the Brahmin, whom he held
by the arm); "give up those jewels which you have stolen from my
shop." "No, I won't," roared the Brahmin; "oh! oh-o! oh-o-o! don't
beat me so; I didn't steal them." But the jeweler was determined to
get the jewels; so he beat the Brahmin and called the police, who came
running up to his assistance, and shouted till a great crowd of people
had collected round his shop. Then he said to the Brahmin, "Give me up
the jewels you stole from me, or I'll give you to the police, and you
shall be put in jail." The Brahmin tried to tell his story about his
son-in-law, the Jackal, but of course nobody believed him; and he was
obliged to give the precious stones to the jeweler in order to escape
the police, and to run home as fast as he could. And every one thought
the jeweler was very kind to let him off so easily.
All his family were very unhappy when they heard what had befallen
him. But his wife said, "You had better go again to our son-in-law,
the Jackal, and see what he can do for us." So next day the Brahmin
climbed the hill again, as he had done before, and went to call upon
the Jackal. When the Jackal saw him coming he was not very well
pleased. So he went to meet him, and said, "Father-in-law, I did not
expect to see you again so soon." "I merely came to see how you were,"
answered the Brahmin, "and to tell you how poor we are; and how glad
we should be of any help you can give us." "What have you done with
all the melons I gave you?" asked the Jackal. "Ah," answered the
Brahmin, "that is a sad story!" And beginning at the beginning, he
related how they had sold almost all the melons without knowing their
value; and how the few precious stones they had found had been taken
from him by the jeweler. When the Jackal heard this he laughed very
much, and said, "I see it is no use giving such unfortunate people as
you gold or jewels, for they will only bring you into trouble. Come,
I'll give you a more useful present." So, running into his cave, he
fetched thence a small chattee, and gave it to the Brahmin, saying,
"Take this chattee; whenever you or any of the family are hungry, you
will always find in it as good a dinner as this." And putting his paw
into the chattee, he extracted thence currie and rice, pilau,[79] and
all sorts of good things, enough to feast a hundred men; and the more
he took out of the chattee, the more remained inside.
[79] Meat cooked with almonds, raisins and spice.
When the Brahmin saw the chattee and smelt the good dinner, his eyes
glistened for joy; and he embraced the Jackal, saying, "Dear
son-in-law, you are the only support of our house." And he took his
new present carefully home with him.
After this, for some time, the whole family led a very happy life,
for they never wanted good food; every day the Brahmin, his wife and
his six daughters found inside the chattee a most delicious dinner;
and every day, when they had dined, they placed it on a shelf, to find
it replenished when next it was needed.
But it happened that hard by there lived another Brahmin, a very great
man, who was much in the Rajah's confidence; and this man smelt daily
the smell of a very nice dinner, which puzzled him a good deal. The
rich Brahmin thought it smelt even nicer than his own dinner, for
which he paid so much, and yet it seemed to come from the poor
Brahmin's little cottage. So one day he determined to find out all
about it; and, going to call on his neighbor, he said to him, "Every
day, at about twelve o'clock, I smell such a very nice dinner--much
nicer than my own; and it seems to come from your house. You must live
on very good things, I think, although you seem to every one to be so
very poor."
Then, in the pride of his heart, the poor Brahmin invited his rich
neighbor to come and dine with him, and lifting the magic chattee down
from the shelf, took out of it such delicate fare as the other had
never before tasted. And in an evil hour he proceeded to tell his
friend of the wondrous properties of the chattee, which his
son-in-law, the Jackal, had given him, and how it never was empty. No
sooner had the great man learnt all this than he went to the Rajah,
and said to him, "There is a poor Brahmin in the town who possesses a
wonderful chattee, which is always filled with the most delicious
dinner. I should not feel authorized to deprive him of it; but if it
pleased your Highness to take it from him, he could not complain."
The Rajah, hearing this, determined to see and taste for himself. So
he said, "I should very much like to see this chattee with my own
eyes." And he accompanied the rich Brahmin to the poor Brahmin's
house. The poor Brahmin was overjoyed at being noticed by the Rajah
himself, and gladly exhibited the various excellences of the chattee;
but no sooner did the Rajah taste the dinner it contained than he
ordered his guards to seize it and take it away to the palace, in
spite of the Brahmin's tears and protestations. Thus, for a second
time, he lost the benefit of his son-in-law's gift.
When the Rajah had gone, the Brahmin said to his wife, "There is
nothing to be done but to go again to the Jackal, and see if he can
help us." "If you don't take care, you'll put him out of all patience
at last," answered she. "I can't think why you need have gone talking
about our chattee!"
When the Jackal heard the Brahmin's story, he became very cross, and
said, "What a stupid old man you were to say anything about the
chattee! But see, here is another, which may aid you to get back the
first. Take care of it, for this is the last time I will help you."
And he gave the Brahmin a chattee, in which was a stout stick tied to
a very strong rope. "Take this," he said, "into the presence of those
who deprived you of my other gifts, and when you open the chattee,
command the stick to beat them; this it will do so effectually that
they will gladly return you what you have lost; only take care not to
open the chattee when you are alone, or the stick that is in it will
punish your rashness."
The Brahmin thanked his son-in-law, and took away the chattee, but he
found it hard to believe all that had been said. So, going through the
jungle on his way home, he uncovered it, just to peep in and see if
the stick were really there. No sooner had he done this than out
jumped the rope, out jumped the stick; the rope seized him and bound
him to a tree, and the stick beat him, and beat him, and beat him,
until he was nearly killed. "Oh dear! oh dear!" screamed the Brahmin;
"what an unlucky man I am! Oh dear! oh dear! stop, please stop! good
stick, stop! what a very good stick this is!" But the stick would not
stop, but beat him so much that he could hardly crawl home again.
Then the Brahmin put the rope and stick back again into the chattee,
and sent to his rich neighbor and to the Rajah, and said to them, "I
have a new chattee, much better than the old one; do come and see what
a fine one it is." And the rich Brahmin and the Rajah thought, "This
is something good; doubtless there is a choice dinner in this chattee
also, and we will take it from this foolish man, as we did the other."
So they went down to meet the Brahmin in the jungle, taking with them
all their followers and attendants. Then the Brahmin uncovered his
chattee, saying, "Beat, stick, beat! beat them every one!" and the
stick jumped out, and the rope jumped out, and the rope caught hold of
the Rajah and the rich Brahmin and all their attendants, and tied them
fast to the trees that grew around, and the stick ran from one to
another, beating, beating, beating--beating the Rajah, beating his
courtiers--beating the rich Brahmin, beating his attendants, and
beating all their followers; while the poor Brahmin cried with all his
might, "Give me back my chattee! give me back my chattee!"
At this the Rajah and his people were very much frightened, and
thought they were going to be killed. And the Rajah said to the
Brahmin, "Take away your stick, only take away your stick, and you
shall have back your chattee." So the Brahmin put the stick and rope
back into the chattee, and the Rajah returned him the dinner-making
chattee. And all the people felt very much afraid of the Brahmin, and
respected him very much.
Then he took the chattee containing the rope and stick to the house of
the woman who had bought the melons, and the rope caught her and the
stick beat her; and the Brahmin cried, "Return me those melons! return
me those melons!" And the woman said, "Only make your stick stop
beating me and you shall have back all the melons." So he ordered the
stick back into the chattee, and she returned him them forthwith--a
whole roomful of melons full of diamonds, pearls, emeralds and rubies.
The Brahmin took them home to his wife, and going into the town, with
the help of his good stick, forced the jeweler who had deprived him of
the little emeralds, rubies, diamonds and pearls he had taken to sell
to give them back to him again, and having accomplished this, he
returned to his family; and from that time they all lived very
happily. Then, one day, the Jackal's wife invited her six sisters to
come and pay her a visit. Now the youngest sister was more clever than
any of the others; and it happened that, very early in the morning,
she saw her brother-in-law, the Jackal, take off the jackal skin and
wash it and brush it, and hang it up to dry; and when he had taken
off the jackal-skin coat, he looked the handsomest prince that ever
was seen. Then his little sister-in-law ran, quickly and quietly, and
stole away the jackal-skin coat, and threw it on the fire and burnt
it. And she awoke her sister, and said, "Sister, sister, your husband
is no longer a jackal; see, that is he standing by the door." So the
Jackal Rajah's wife ran to the door to meet her husband, and because
the jackal's skin was burnt, and he could wear it no longer, he
continued to be a man for the rest of his life, and gave up playing
all jackal-like pranks; and he and his wife, and his father and mother
and sisters-in-law, lived very happily all the rest of their days.
[Decoration]
[Decoration]