Long ago there lived a cobbler who had very poor wits, but by strict
industry he could earn enough to keep himself and his widowed mother
in comfort.

In this manner he had lived for many years in peace and prosperity,
when a distant relative died who left him a certain sum of money. This
so elated the cobbler that he could think of nothing else, and his
only talk was of the best way of spending the legacy.

His mother advised him to lay it by against a rainy day.

"For," said she, "we have lived long in much comfort as we are, and
have need of nothing; but when you grow old, or if it should please
Heaven that you become disabled, you will then be glad of your
savings."

But to this the cobbler would not listen. "No," said he, "if we save
the money it may be stolen, but if we spend it well, we shall have
the use of what we buy, and may sell it again if we are so minded."

He then proposed one purchase after another, and each was more foolish
than the rest. When this had gone on for some time, one morning he
exclaimed: "I have it at last! We will buy the house. It cannot be
stolen or lost, and when it is ours we shall have no rent to pay, and
I shall not have to work so hard."

"He will never hit on a wiser plan than that," thought the widow; "it
is not to be expected." So she fully consented to this arrangement,