Once there was a little boy called Hanumanthu. He lived in Deccan India with his mother, near a great Nallamalla forest. His mother lived in a small cottage not for away.

One day, his mother said, `Hanu, I am going to market. Go and spend the day with your grandmother’.

Hanumanthu went along the dusty pat through the forest. He played in his grandmother’s grand all day.

In the afternoon, is grandmother said, `Hanu, take this needle to your other. Look after it carefully.’

On the way home, a hay cart passed Hanu. Hanumanthu put the needle in the hay and walked behind the cart. At last he got home, but he could not find the needle.

`You are foolish boy, Hanu,’ said his mother. `Put a needle in your sleeve, like this, not in the hay.’

The next week Hanumanthu went to his grandmother’s house again. He played the whole day, and later his grandmother said, `Hanu, please take this knife to your mother’.

Hanumanthu started off for home. He remembered his mother’s words. He put the knife carefully inside his sleeves.

When he got home the knife was not there. It had fallen our on his way home.

`O, foolish boy,’ said his mother. `You should have put it in your pocket.’

The next week, Hanumanthu played with a little `Tommy’ at his grandmother’s house. In the afternoon he said, `Grand mother! Can I take this dog home?’

`Yes but look after it carefully,’ said his grand mother. Hanumanthu stuffed the Tommy into his pocket. When he took the Tommy out at home, it did not move.

`Oh! What have you done, you are foolish boy?’ cried his mother.

`You told me to put it in my pocket,’ said Hanumanthu.

After a few minutes the Tommy opened its eyes.

`You are foolish, Hanu,’ said his mother. `You should have pulled it long it along tied a string.’

Next week, Hanumanthu took the Tommy to his grandmother’s house. After coffee his grandmother said, `Here is a piece of meat. Carry it home to your other’.

Hanumanthu tied the meat with a string and dragged it a along behind him. The Tommy followed Hanu, nibbling the meat.

When Hanu got home he had no meat.

`You should have put it in a piece of paper and put the pocket on your head,’ said his mother.

Next week Hanu’s grandmother gave him a pound of butter. Hanumanthu wrapped the butter in some paper and put the pocket on his head.

When he reached home is mother looked at him and cried out. `What is all that yellow stuff on your head and back?’

The butter had melted in the sun.

`You are a foolish boy!’ said mother.