Aesop
The Miser and his Gold
Alfred P. Mathews was a miser. He wore a ratty old overcoat and complained about the price of everything so people would think he was poor.
He didn’t have any friends and kept his family away because he thought they were all after his money. He never went to see a movie or to a restaurant. Instead he went to bed early to save on electricity.
He didn’t trust banks; for sure the tax people would get a hold of his account!
No sir.
Where did he put all his money? He buried it, under a tree in his backyard. Every week he’d sneak out, when it was dark, to dig up the tin box. Each time he’d add more money and sit back, pleased with himself.
One night a robber was zoning through the back streets and caught sight of Alfred busy digging under the tree.
– Interesting.
He said.
– I wonder what the old devil is up to?
The next evening the robber retraced his steps and settled at a comfortable distance from Alfred’s house with a pair of binoculars.
A week later, right on time, Alfred was in the yard with lantern and shovel. The robber inched a bit closer and watched in wonder as Alfred opened the box, counted his money, put more money in, closed the box and placed it back in the hole.
– Just look at that.
Said the robber as he watched Alfred cover the hole with dirt.
He was in no hurry. He figured if he was patient Alfred would keep adding more money. Finally on a dark and cloudy night he tiptoed to the tree. In no time he found the hole and pulled out the tin box. He put the money in a bag, buried the empty box and was out of the yard in less than three minutes.
We can only imagine how Alfred reacted when he discovered the theft.
Neighbors found him the next morning in front of his house, semi-conscious. They carried him to his living room and someone (somewhat grudgingly) produced a small flask of Hennessy. Alfred was thus revived, but still in a terrible state.
– My money! My money!
He cried.
– Gone! All gone!
– What money?
Asked his neighbor on the right.
Alfred explained what happened, how he kept his money in a box under the tree and now it was stolen. He told them how much money was in the box and they were impressed.
– I should have changed hiding places.
Said Alfred, burying his face in his hands.
– You could’ve bought yourself a pair of shoes.
– Or a new coat.
– Or a Cadillac.
– A black Cadillac with white wheel tires.
Said a passerby who knew something about cars.
– You could have hired a maid.
Said his niece, looking around.
– I could have put it in the cupboard one week, and in the refrigerator the next week, but then I may forget where I’d put it so I’d need a list, but if the thief gets a hold of the list he’ll find the money anyway. What am I going to do?
Alfred’s sister was standing by the door. She looked at the dirty house; the peeling wallpaper, the filthy windows, the unwashed pile of plates on the kitchen table.
He was truly pathetic.
– I have an idea. Replace the money with a rock, and bury it. You can dig it up whenever you want.
– What are you talking about, Edna? Have you gone crazy?
Cried Alfred clutching at his heart.
– You never planned to spend it, so what’s the difference?
A miser hoards his gold. His house is in shambles but he will not pay for repairs. His sister accuses him of being cheap. It's his money, can't he do what he wants with it?
