the tailor-monk, and take the robe away with them, thinking it would last. But when it grew a little dirty, and they washed it in warm water, it would appear as it really was, and the worn-out places would show themselves here and there upon it. Then, too late, they would repent.
And that monk became notorious, as one who passed off old rags upon anybody who came to him.
Now there was another robe-maker in a country village who used to cheat everybody just like the man at Jetavana. And some monks who knew him very well told him about the other, and said to him —
"Sir! there is a monk at Jetavana who, they say, cheats all the world in such and such a manner."
"Ah!" thought he, "'twould be a capital thing if I could outwit that city fellow!"
And he made a fine robe out of old clothes, dyed it a beautiful red, put it on, and went to Jetavana. As soon as the other saw it, he began to covet it, and asked him —
"Is this robe one of your own making, sir?"
"Certainly, Brother," was the reply.
"Sir! let me have the robe. You can take another for it," said he.
"But, Brother, we village monks are but badly provided. If I give you this, what shall I have to put on?"
"I have some new cloths, sir, by me. Do you take those and make a robe for yourself."
"Well, Brother! this is my own handiwork; but if you talk like that, what can I do? You may have it," said the other; and giving him the robe made of old rags, he took away the new cloths in triumph.
And the man of Jetavana put on the robe; but when a few days after he discovered, on washing it, that it was made of rags, he was covered with confusion. And it became noised abroad in the order, "That Jetavana robe-maker has been outwitted, they say, by a man from the country!"
