Chapter 147

"The story of the old man who made withered trees to flower."

Long, long ago there lived an old man and his wife who supported themselves by cultivating a small plot of land. Their life had been a very happy and peaceful one save for one great sorrow, and this was they had no child.

Their only pet was a dog named Shiro, and on him they lavished all the affection of their old age. Indeed, they loved him so much that whenever they had anything nice to eat they denied themselves to give it to Shiro.

Now Shiro means "white," and he was so called because of his color. He was a real Japanese dog, and very like a small wolf in appearance. The happiest hour of the day both for the old man and his dog was when the man returned from his work in the field, and having finished his frugal supper of rice and vegetables, would take what he had saved from the meal out to the little veranda that ran round the cottage.

Sure enough, Shiro was waiting for his master and the evening tit-bit. Then the old