learned to love thee and thy patience, I will give thee now five rupees
for all thy earnings of the three days to come. There is only a bond to
sign on the matter." But the mendicant said, "Thou art mad. In two
months I do not receive the worth of five rupees," and he told the thing
to his wife that evening. She, being a woman, said, "When did money-
lender ever make a bad bargain? The wolf runs through the corn for the
sake of the fat deer. Our fate is in the hands of the Gods. Pledge it
not even for three days."

'So the mendicant returned to the money-lender, and would not sell. Then
that wicked man sat all day before him offering more and more for those
three days' earnings. First, ten, fifty, and a hundred rupees; and then,
for he did not know when the Gods would pour down their gifts, rupees by
the thousand, till he had offered half a lakh of rupees. Upon this sum
the mendicant's wife shifted her counsel, and the mendicant signed the
bond, and the money was paid in silver; great white bullocks bringing it
by the cartload. But saving only all that money, the mendicant received
nothing from the Gods at all, and the heart of the money-lender was
uneasy on account of expectation. Therefore at noon of the third day the
money-lender went into the temple to spy upon the councils of the Gods,
and to learn in what manner that gift might arrive. Even as he was
making his prayers, a crack between the stones of the floor gaped, and,
closing, caught him by the heel. Then he heard the Gods walking in the
temple in the darkness of the columns, and Shiv called to his son
Ganesh, saying, "Son, what hast thou done in regard to the lakh of
rupees for the mendicant?" And Ganesh woke, for the money-lender heard
the dry rustle of his trunk uncoiling, and he answered, "Father, one
half of the money has been paid, and the debtor for the other half I
hold here fast by the heel."'