There was once a Farmer who suffered much at the hands of a
Money-lender. Good harvests or bad the Farmer was always poor, the
Money-lender rich. At the last, when he hadn't a farthing left, the
Farmer went to the Money-lender's house and said, "You can't squeeze
water from a stone, and, as you have nothing to get by me now, you
might tell me the secret of becoming rich."
"My friend," returned the Money-lender piously, "riches come from
Ram--ask _him_."
"Thank you, I will!" replied the simple Farmer; so he prepared three
girdle-cakes to last him on the journey, and set out to find Ram.
First he met a Brahman, and to him he gave a cake, asking him to point
out the road to Ram; but the Brahman only took the cake, and went on
his way without a word. Next the Farmer met a yogi, or devotee, and to
him he gave a cake, without receiving any help in return. At last
he came upon a poor man sitting under a tree, and finding out he was
hungry the kindly Farmer gave him his last cake, and, sitting down to
rest beside him, entered into conversation.
"And where are you going?" asked the poor man, at length.
"Oh, I have a long journey before me, for I am going to find Ram!"
replied the Farmer. "I don't suppose you could tell me which way to
go?"
"Perhaps I can," said the poor man, smiling, "for _I_ am Ram! What do
you want of me?"
Then the Farmer told the whole story, and Ram, taking pity on him,
gave him a conch-shell, and showed him how to blow it in a particular
way, saying: "Remember! whatever you wish for, you have only to blow
the conch that way, and your wish will be fulfilled. Only, have a care
of that Money-lender, for even magic is not proof against his wiles!"
The Farmer went back to his village rejoicing. In fact, the
Money-lender noticed his high spirits at once, and said to himself,
"Some good fortune must have befallen the stupid fellow, to make
him hold his head so jauntily." Therefore he went over to the simple
Farmer's house, and congratulated him on his good fortune in such
cunning words, pretending to have heard all about it, that before
long the Farmer found himself telling the whole story--all except the
secret of blowing the conch, for, with all his simplicity, the Farmer
was not quite such a fool as to tell that.
Nevertheless, the Money-lender determined to have the conch by hook
or by crook, and, as he was villain enough not to stick at trifles, he
waited for a favorable opportunity and stole the conch.
But, after nearly bursting himself with blowing the conch in every
conceivable way, he was obliged to give up the secret as a bad job.
However, being determined to succeed, he went back to the Farmer, and
said coolly: "Look here! I've got your conch, but I can't use it; you
haven't got it, so it's clear you can't use it either. Business is at
a standstill unless we make a bargain. Now, I promise to give you
back your conch, and never to interfere with your using it, on one
condition, which is this--whatever you get from it, I am to get
double."
"Never!" cried the Farmer; "that would be the old business all over
again!"
"Not at all!" replied the wily Money-lender; "you will have your share!
Now, don't be a dog in the manger, for, if _you_ get all you want,
what can it matter to you if _I_ am rich or poor?"
At last, though it went sorely against the grain to be of any benefit
to a Money-lender, the Farmer was forced to yield, and from that time,
no matter what he gained by the power of the conch, the Money-lender
gained double. And the knowledge that this was so, preyed upon the
Farmer's mind day and night, so that he had no satisfaction out of
anything.
At last there came a very dry season--so dry that the Farmer's crops
withered for want of rain. Then he blew his conch, and wished for a
well to water them, and lo! there was the well, _but the Money-lender
had two_!--two beautiful new wells! This was too much for any Farmer
to stand; and our friend brooded over it, and brooded over it, till
at last a bright idea came into his head. He seized the conch, blew it
loudly, and cried out, "Oh, Ram! I wish to be blind of one eye!" And
so he was, in a twinkling, but the Money-lender, of course, was blind
of both, and in trying to steer his way between the two new wells he
fell into one, and was drowned.
Now, this true story shows that a Farmer once got the better of a
Money-lender--but only by losing one of his eyes.
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