in a priest's house, where the master (nabo) and mistress (namo) showed him great courtesy. Ugyen presented the minister a dozen oranges he had bought in the Gyantse market for one anna each. I told the minister that these oranges came from Sikkim. "Oh, indeed!" he said. "It must be a happy land. In Tibet no oranges mature; at Lhasa there are orange trees producing small fruit, which do not, however, ripen."
In the evening Ugyen told me a tale he had heard from the Chyag-dso-pa of the Palri monastery.
Once on a time Dugpa-kunleg, a famous but eccentric saint of the red-hat school, was staying at Khang-toi shikha, in Lhasa. He saw the wife of his host stealing a piece of amber from the bag of a beggar who was stopping in the house, and putting an apple in its stead into his wallet. The saint told her it was both sinful and criminal to act thus, and related to her the following tale by way of instruction.
In ancient India there lived two friends. One, a highlander, was a dishonest man; the other, a lowlander, was upright and honest. One day the two, while walking in a valley, found a bowl of gold. The lowlander said, "Well, now that fortune has favoured us with a treasure, let us first return thanks to the local divinities, and then divide the gold between us." The other rejoined, "Friend, the day is far advanced; we can do all this to-morrow; let us rather take the bowl home now."
To this the lowlander agreed. The next morning when he called at his friend's house, he found him in a corner wailing and shedding tears. "Ah, friend," he exclaimed, "my heart is filled with grief and shame. How can I tell you! The bowl of gold has been miraculously changed, for this morning I found but sawdust in it. The gods alone know what has become of the treasure! This, I am grieved to say, will put an end to our friendship, for it will create in your mind a suspicion against me." So saying he began weeping afresh.
The other, perceiving his design, said, with wonderful calmness, "Friend, you need not cry. The loss of the treasure is not the greatest mishap which might befall us. If we two continue friends, we should hold ourselves very happy. Chance brought the treasure; chance has taken it away; crying will not bring it back."
The false friend, thinking he had gained his end, soon dried his
