Well, one such day as this, when he was taking a walk, he strolled out
past the walls of the town and into the green fields until he came at
last to a fine big house that stood by the banks of a river, wherein
lived a man and his wife who were very well to do in the world. There
the king stopped for a bite of bread and a drink of fresh milk.
“I would like to ask you a question,” said the king to the rich man;
“and the question is this: Why are some folk rich and some folk poor?”
“That I cannot tell you,” said the good man; “only I remember my father
used to say that much shall have more and little shall have less.”
“Very well,” said the king; “the saying has a good sound, but let us
find whether or not it is really true. See; here is a purse with three
hundred pieces of golden money in it. Take it and give it to the poorest
man you know; in a week’s time I will come again, and then you shall
tell me whether it has made you or him the richer.”
Now in the town there lived two beggars who were as poor as poverty
itself, and the poorer of the twain was one who used to sit in rags and
tatters on the church step to beg charity of the good folk who came and
went. To him went the rich man, and, without so much as a good-morning,
quoth he: “Here is something for you,” and so saying dropped the purse
of gold into the beggar’s hat. Then away he went without waiting for a
word of thanks.
As for the beggar, he just sat there for a while goggling and staring
like one moon-struck. But at last his wits came back to him, and then
away he scampered home as fast as his legs could carry him. Then he
spread his money out on the table and counted it--three hundred pieces
of gold money! He had never seen such great riches in his life before.
There he sat feasting his eyes upon the treasure as though they would
never get their fill. And now what was he to do with all of it? Should
he share his fortune with his brother? Not a bit of it. To be sure,
until now they had always shared and shared alike, but here was the
first great lump of good-luck that had ever fallen in his way, and he
was not for spoiling it by cutting it in two to give half to a poor
beggar-man such as his brother. Not he; he would hide it and keep it all
for his very own.
Now, not far from where he lived, and beside the river, stood a
willow-tree, and thither the lucky beggar took his purse of money and
stuffed it into a knot-hole of a withered branch, then went his
way, certain that nobody would think of looking for money in such a
hiding-place. Then all the rest of the day he sat thinking and thinking
of the ways he would spend what had been given him, and what he would do
to get the most good out of it. At last came evening, and his brother,
who had been begging in another part of the town, came home again.
“I nearly lost my hat to-day,” said the second beggar so soon as he had
come into the house.
“Did you?” said the first beggar. “How was that?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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