THE COBBLER AND THE FINANCIER

(BOOK VIII.--No. 2)


There was once a cobbler who was so light hearted that he sang from
morning to night. It was wonderful to watch him at his work, and more
wonderful still to hear his runs and trills. He was in fact happier than
the Seven Sages.

This merry soul had a neighbour who was exactly the reverse. He sang
little and slept less; for he was a financier, and made of money, as
they say. Whenever it happened that after a sleepless night he would
doze off in the early morning, the cobbler, who was always up betimes,
would wake him up again with his joyful songs. "Ha!" thought the man of
wealth, "what a misfortune it is that one cannot buy sleep in the open
market as one buys food and drink!" Then an idea came to him. He
invited the cobbler to his house, where he asked him some questions.

"Tell me, Master Gregory, what do you suppose your earnings amount to in
a year?"

"In a year," laughed the cobbler, "that's more than I know. I never keep
accounts that way, nor even keep one day from another. So long as I can
make both ends meet, that's good enough for me!"

"Really!" replied the financier. "But what can you earn in one day?"

"Oh, sometimes more and sometimes less. The mischief of it is that there
are so many fête days and high-days and fast-days crowded into the year,