THE GOLDEN SCORPIONSThere once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily to beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such as the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.In it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.One day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the ground, and went to some little distance to drink water.On his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.Seizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until the venomous things dropped off.Great indeed was his surprise to find when he next looked into his gourd, that several scorpions still clung to it, but had been transformed by the Gods into pure gold, although their forms were retained.Thus the good old man was enriched, but great was his disappointment when he remembered how many scorpions he had thrown away, for these might also have turned into gold had he kept them.Moral.—There is good sometimes in even the evil things in life.
THE GOLDEN SCORPIONSThere once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily to beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such as the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.In it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.One day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the ground, and went to some little distance to drink water.On his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.Seizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until the venomous things dropped off.Great indeed was his surprise to find when he next looked into his gourd, that several scorpions still clung to it, but had been transformed by the Gods into pure gold, although their forms were retained.Thus the good old man was enriched, but great was his disappointment when he remembered how many scorpions he had thrown away, for these might also have turned into gold had he kept them.Moral.—There is good sometimes in even the evil things in life.
THE GOLDEN SCORPIONS
There once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily to beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such as the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.In it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.One day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the ground, and went to some little distance to drink water.On his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.Seizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until the venomous things dropped off.Great indeed was his surprise to find when he next looked into his gourd, that several scorpions still clung to it, but had been transformed by the Gods into pure gold, although their forms were retained.Thus the good old man was enriched, but great was his disappointment when he remembered how many scorpions he had thrown away, for these might also have turned into gold had he kept them.Moral.—There is good sometimes in even the evil things in life.
There once lived in a certain village a poor man who went out daily to beg, carrying in his hand a small vessel made from a gourd, such as the Jogis, or holy Fakirs, in India use.
In it he carried home his scanty meal of flour each evening.
One day he placed the gourd, which was empty at the time, upon the ground, and went to some little distance to drink water.
On his return he was amazed to find it full of scorpions.
Seizing it on one side, he carefully knocked it against a stone until the venomous things dropped off.
Great indeed was his surprise to find when he next looked into his gourd, that several scorpions still clung to it, but had been transformed by the Gods into pure gold, although their forms were retained.
Thus the good old man was enriched, but great was his disappointment when he remembered how many scorpions he had thrown away, for these might also have turned into gold had he kept them.
Moral.—There is good sometimes in even the evil things in life.