There lived a poor old man whose name was Wali Dad Gunjay, or Wali Dad the Bald. He had no relations, but lived
all by himself in a little mud hut some distance from any town, and made his living by cutting grass in the
jungle, and selling it as fodder for horses. He only earned by this five halfpence a day; but he was a simple old
man, and needed so little out of it, that he saved up one halfpenny daily, and spent the rest upon such food and
clothing as he required.
In this way he lived for many years until, one night, he thought that he would count the money he had hidden away
in the great earthen pot under the floor of his hut. So he set to work, and with much trouble he pulled the bag
out on to the floor, and sat gazing in astonishment at the heap of coins which tumbled out of it. What should he
do with them all? he wondered. But he never thought of spending the money on himself, because he was content to
pass the rest of his days as he had been doing for ever so long, and he really had no desire for any greater
comfort or luxury.
At last he threw all the money into an old sack, which he pushed under his bead, and then, rolled in his ragged
old blanket, he went off to sleep.
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Early next morning he staggered off with his sack of money to the shop of a jeweller, whom he knew in the town,
and bargained with him for a beautiful little gold bracelet. With this carefully wrapped up in his cotton
waistband he went to the house of a rich friend, who was a travelling merchant, and used to wander about with his
camels and merchandise through many countries. Wali Dad was lucky enough to find him at home, so he sat down, and
after a little talk he asked the merchant who was the most virtuous and beautiful lady he had ever met with. The
merchant replied that the princess of Khaistan was renowned everywhere as well for the beauty of her person as
for the kindness and generosity of her disposition.
'Then,' said Wali Dad, 'next time you go that way, give her this little bracelet, with the respectful compliments
of one who admires virtue far more than he desires wealth.'
With that he pulled the bracelet from his waistband, and handed it to his friend. The merchant was naturally much
astonished, but said nothing, and made no objection to carrying out his friend's plan.
Time passed by, and at length the merchant arrived in the course of his travels at the capital of Khaistan. As
soon as he had opportunity he presented himself at the palace, and sent in the bracelet, neatly packed in a
little perfumed box provided by himself, giving at the same time the message entrusted to him by Wali Dad.
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The princess could not think who could have bestowed this present on her, but she bade her servant to tell the
merchant that if he would return, after he had finished his business in the city, she would give him her reply.
In a few days, therefore, the merchant came back, and received from the princess a return present in the shape of
a camel-load or rich silks, besides a present of money for himself. With these he set out on his journey.
So, the next time that the merchant journeyed that way he carried the silks with him, and in due course arrived
at Nekabad, and sought an audience of the prince. When he was shown into his presence he produced the beautiful
gift of silks that Wali Dad had sent, and begged the young man to accept them as a humble tribute to his worth
and greatness. The prince was much touched by the generosity of the giver, and ordered, as a return present,
twelve of the finest breed of horses for which his country was famous to be delivered over to the merchant, to
whom also, before he took his leave, he gave a munificent reward for his services.
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The merchant departed, laughing. But, true to his old friend's request, he took the horses with him on his next
journey, and eventually presented them safely to the princess. This time the princess sent for the merchant, and
questioned him about the giver. Now, the merchant was usually a most honest man, but he did not quite like to
describe Wali Dad in his true light as an old man whose income was five halfpence a day, and who had hardly
clothes to cover him. So he told her that his friend had heard stories of her beauty and goodness, and had longed
to lay the best he had at her feet. The princess then took her father into her confidence, and begged him to
advise her what courtesy she might return to one who persisted in making her such presents.
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'Well,' said the king, 'you cannot refuse them; so the best thing you can do is to send this unknown friend at
once a present so magnificent that he is not likely to be able to send you anything better, and so will be
ashamed to send anything at all!' Then he ordered that, in place of each of the ten horses, two mules laden with
silver should be returned by her.
The merchant felt handsomely repaid for his trouble, and wondered greatly how the matter would turn out. So he
made no difficulty about it; and as soon as he could get things ready, he set out for Nekabad with this new and
princely gift.
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And now the King of Khaistan and the Prince and Princess of Nekabad, each went back to their own country; and
Wali Dad lived to a good old age, befriending all who were in trouble and preserving, in his prosperity, the
simple-hearted and generous nature that he had when he was only Wali Dad Gunjay, the grass cutter.
Story Of Wali Dad The Simple-Hearted