As time went on, the Brahman became very well known in Sravasti. His
fame indeed spread far beyond the town, and people came from far away
to consult him about all sorts of things, and he gave them good advice,
for he was a very wise man. Those who wanted him to tell them what to
do paid him for his advice, and as some of them had plenty of money
and were glad to help him, he soon became quite rich. He might have
done a great deal of good with all this money by helping the poor and
suffering, but unfortunately he never thought of doing so. Instead
of that, he got to love the money for its own sake. At night, when
all those who had come to see him had gone to rest, and there was no
fear of his being found out, he used to steal away into the forest,
and there he dug a deep hole at the root of a great tree, to which
he took all his money and jewels.

In India everybody has a siesta, that is to say, a sleep in the
middle of the day, because the heat is so great it is difficult to
keep well and strong without this extra rest. So, although it is quite
light at the time, the streets are deserted, except for the dogs who
prowl about, trying to find something to eat. Now the Brahman loved
his money and other treasures so much, that he used very often to
do without this siesta and go to the forest to enjoy the pleasure of
looking at them. When he got to the tree, he would bend down, clear
away the earth and leaves with which he had hidden his secret hole,
take out the money and let it slip through his fingers, and hold up
the jewels to the light, to watch how they gleamed and glistened. He
was never so happy as when he was alone with his riches, and it was
all he could do to tear himself away from them when the time came to
go back to his shady corner. In fact he was becoming a selfish miser
instead of the holy man the people of Sravasti thought he was. By the
time the siesta was over he was always back again in his place beneath