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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
reasure 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
"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.