The Miser

								
A Miser had buried his gold in a secret place in his garden.
Every day he went to the spot, dug up the treasure and counted it
piece by piece to make sure it was all there. He made so many
trips that a Thief, who had been observing him, guessed what it
was the Miser had hidden, and one night quietly dug up the
treasure and made off with it.

When the Miser discovered his loss, he was overcome with grief
and despair. He groaned and cried and tore his hair.

A passerby heard his cries and asked what had happened.

"My gold! O my gold!" cried the Miser, wildly, "someone has
robbed me!"


"Your gold! There in that hole? Why did you put it there? Why did
you not keep it in the house where you could easily get it when
you had to buy things?"

"Buy!" screamed the Miser angrily. "Why, I never touched the
gold. I couldn't think of spending any of it."

The stranger picked up a large stone and threw it into the hole.

"If that is the case," he said, "cover up that stone. It is worth
just as much to you as the treasure you lost!"

A possession is worth no more than the use we make of it.
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