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Then Puran, in gratitude for this great boon, became a faqir, and placing the sacred earrings in his ears, followed Goraknath as a disciple, and was called Puran Bhagat.

And Rasalu, in his Jogi's habit, bent his head towards her, saying softly 'A day since the earrings were mine, A day since I turned a faqir; But yesterday Love's arrow struck me; I seek nothing here! I beg nought of others I see, But only, fair Sundran, of thee!

To this the faqir replied: 'O youth! it would be best for you to have nothing to do with me and to know nothing of my fortunes, for my story is fit neither for telling nor for hearing. The prince, however, pleaded so hard to be told, that at last there was nothing to be done but to let him hear.

Even the Raja Salbahan and his two Queens heard of it in the palace, and they too went to the garden to see it with their own eyes. But Puran Bhagat's mother, Queen Achhra, had wept so long for her darling, that the tears had blinded her eyes, and so she went, not to see, but to ask the wonder-working faqir to restore her sight.

There was nothing to be done but to go back to the faqir, and tell him what had happened. 'That comes of being greedy! retorted the faqir; 'surely seven sons are enough for anybody, and yet you were not content! However, I will give you one more chance.

To this the faqīr replied: 'O youth! it would be best for you to have nothing to do with me and to know nothing of my fortunes, for my story is fit neither for telling nor for hearing. The prince, however, pleaded so hard to be told, that at last there was nothing to be done but to let him hear.

Now, as he lay thus, a holy faqir passed through the garden, and seeing the King in this pitiful plight, asked him what the sorrow was which drove him to such a very dirty old bed. 'What is the use of asking? returned the King; but when the faqir asked for the third time what the sorrow was, the King took heart of grace, and answered gloomily, 'I have no children!

'Is that all? said the faqir; 'that is easily remedied. Here! take this stick of mine, and throw it twice into yonder mango tree. At the first throw five mangoes will fall, at the second two. So many sons you shall have, if you give each of your seven Queens a mango apiece. Then the King, greatly delighted, took the faqir's stick and went off to the mango tree.

He saw him frizzle and sizzle, he saw him come out crisp and brown, he saw the hungry and holy faqir pick the bones, and, finally, he saw King Karan, fat and jolly as ever, go down the mountain side with his hundredweight of gold! Then Bikru knew what to do! So the very next day he rose very early, and taking a carving-knife, he slashed himself all over.

'Couldn't! nodded the holy but satisfied faqir, 'really not another morsel no, thanks! 'Then give me my gold! shrieked King Karan; 'you're bound to do that, for I'm ready to fulfil my part of the contract! 'Sorry I can't oblige, but the devil I mean the other person went off with the coat! nodded the faqir.