Chapter 8

by Rudyard Kipling

　　The lids of the flesh-pots chattered high

　　The knives were whetted, and then came I

　　To Mahbub Ali the muleteer.

　　Ballad of the King's Jest

　　[“Something I owe to the soil that grew —

　　More to the life that fed —

　　But most to Allah Who gave me two

　　Separate sides to my head.

　　I would go without shirts or shoes,

　　Friends, tobacco or bread

　　Sooner than for an instant lose

　　Either side of my head.”]