so he took the money, and received it respectfully, raising it to his
head.

"And so you have had all this toil and labour on account of a foolish
speech of mine? I have obtained my heart's desire, and am truly
thankful."

As he was thanking the badger with great politeness and ceremony, the
beast said: "In doing this I have but fulfilled my own wish; still I
hope that you will tell this thing to no man."

"Indeed," replied the priest, "I cannot choose but tell this story. For
if I keep this money in my poor hut, it will be stolen by thieves: I
must either give it to some one to keep for me, or else at once offer it
up at the temple. And when I do this, when people see a poor old priest
with a sum of money quite unsuited to his station, they will think it
very suspicious, and I shall have to tell the tale as it occurred; but I
shall say that the badger that gave me the money has ceased coming to my
hut, you need not fear being waylaid, but can come, as of old, and
shelter yourself from the cold." To this the badger nodded assent; and
as long as the old priest lived, it came and spent the winter nights
with him.

From this story, it is plain that even beasts have a sense of gratitude:
in this quality dogs excel all other beasts. Is not the story of the dog
of Totoribé Yorodzu written in the Annals of Japan? I[5] have heard that
many anecdotes of this nature have been collected and printed in a book,
which I have not yet seen; but as the facts which I have recorded relate
to a badger, they appear to me to be passing strange.