a diamond, which some one had lost, lay for some time on the high road. at last it happened that a merchant picked it up. by him it was offered to the king, who bought it, had it set in gold, and made it one of the ornaments of the royal crown. having heard of this, a pebble began to make a fuss. the brilliant fate of the diamond fascinated it; and, one day, seeing a moujik passing, it besought him thus:
"do me a kindness, fellow-countryman, and take me with you to the capital. why should i go on suffering here in rain and mud, while our diamond is, men say, in honour there? i don't understand why it has been treated with such respect. side by side with me here it lay so many years; it is just such a stone as i am—my close companion. do take me! how can one tell? if i am seen there, i too, perhaps, may be found worthy of being turned to account."
the moujik took the stone into his lumbering cart, and conveyed it to the city. our stone tumbled into the cart, thinking that it would soon be sitting by the side of the diamond. but a quite different fate befell it. it really was turned to account, but only to mend a hole in the road.