In a secluded village there lived a rich man, who was very miserly, and his wife, who was very kind-hearted and charitable, but a stupid little woman that believed everything she heard. And there lived in the same village a clever rogue, who had for some time watched for an opportunity for getting something from this simple woman during her husband’s absence. So one day, when he had seen the old miser ride out to inspect his lands, this rogue of the first water came to the house, and fell down at the threshold as if overcome by fatigue. The woman ran up to him at once and inquired whence he came. “I am come from Kailása,” said he; “having been sent down by an old couple living there, for news of their son and his wife.” “Who are those fortunate dwellers in Siva’s mountain?” she asked. And the rogue gave the names of her husband’s deceased parents, which he had taken good care, of course, to learn from the neighbours. “Do you really come from them?” said the simple woman. “Are they doing well there? Dear old people! How glad my husband would be to see you, were he here! Sit down, please, and rest until he returns. How do they live there? Have they enough to eat and dress themselves withal?” These and a hundred other questions she put to the rogue, who, for his part, wished to get away as soon as possible, knowing full well how he would be treated if the miser should return while he was there. So he replied, “Mother, language has no words to describe the miseries they are undergoing in the other world. They have not a rag of clothing, and for the last six days they have eaten nothing, and have lived on water only. It would break your heart to see them.” The rogue’s pathetic words deceived the good woman, who firmly believed that he had come down from Kailása, a messenger from the old couple to herself! “Why should they so suffer,” said she, “when their son has plenty to eat and clothe himself withal, and when their daughter-in-law wears all sorts of costly garments?” So saying, she went into the house, and soon came out again with two boxes containing all her own and her husband’s clothes, which she handed to the rogue, desiring him to deliver them to the poor old couple in Kailása. She also gave him her jewel-box, to be presented to her mother-in-law. “But dress and jewels will not fill their hungry stomachs,” said the rogue. “Very true; I had forgot: wait a moment,” said the simple woman, going into the house once more. Presently returning with her husband’s cash chest, she emptied its glittering contents into the rogue’s skirt, who now took his leave in haste, promising to give everything to the good old couple in Kailása; and having secured all the booty in his upper garment, he made off at the top of his speed as soon as the silly woman had gone indoors.