When the Teacher had related this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the lion was I myself.” [Illustration: _So taking the little hare on his back, he sprang forward with the speed of a lion._] _16. The Birds._ _Nobody loves a beggar._ Vinaya iii. 147-148. On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for begging. Said he: In olden times a certain monk dwelt on a slope of Himavat in a certain forest-grove. Not far from that forest-grove was a great marsh, a swamp. Now a large flock of birds sought food in that swamp in the daytime, returning to that forest-grove at eventide to roost. Now that monk, driven away by the noise of that flock of birds, approached me, and having approached, saluted me and sat down on one side. And as he sat on one side, I said this to that monk: “I trust, monk, that you have suffered no discomfort. I trust that you have received sufficient sustenance. I trust that you have made your journey without fatigue. And, monk, whence have you come?” “I have suffered no discomfort, Exalted One. I have received sufficient sustenance. I have made my journey without fatigue. Reverend Sir, on a slope of Himavat is a large forest-grove. And not far from that forest-grove is a great marsh, a swamp. Now a large flock of birds seek food in that swamp in the daytime, returning to that forest-grove at eventide to roost. Thence, Reverend Sir, do I come, driven away by the noise of that flock of birds.” “But, monk, do you wish that flock of birds never to come back again?” “I wish that flock of birds never to come back again.” “Well then, monk, go there, plunge into that forest-grove, and throughout the watches of the night cry out: ‘Let the pretty birds hear me, as many as roost in this forest-grove! I want feathers! Let the pretty birds each give me a feather!’” So that monk went there, plunged into that forest-grove, and throughout the watches of the night cried out: “Let the pretty birds hear me, as many as roost in this forest-grove! I want feathers! Let the pretty birds each give me a feather!” Thereupon that flock of birds, reflecting, “The monk begs feathers, the monk wants feathers,” departed from that forest-grove. When they departed, they departed indeed, and never came back again. “For, monks, to living beings in the form of animals, begging is said to have been offensive, hinting is said to have been offensive. How much more so must it be to human beings!” _17. Dragon Jewel-Neck._ _Nobody loves a beggar._ _A. Canonical version._ Vinaya iii. 145-147. On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for begging. Said he: