Since he was born, says he, he has been generous; he has sent his family to heaven. He has heaped up wealth and hoarded it in the earth; he has suffered poverty all his life. If you call him by name, he will give you nothing to eat; if you meet him you will be none the better for it; when he hears of others' charities, he covers up his head and goes to sleep. If some relative comes to visit him, he says he is not well. “In your town there is a doctor; why need I stay at home?”
“How many children am I going to have? I wish they were dead,” says he. Accordingly he makes vows to the gods and sends them presents of food. If a priest comes to his house on a festival, he tells the children to shout and scare him away. “You will go short yourselves,” says he, “this fellow is death to victuals.” When he got shaved it cost him a pice, so he went to his wife and said “Wind up your concerns, have your hair cut off.” He never even dreams of holy places, or of worshipping the village linga. He shuts his door and sits outside it and tells people his house is ruined. Tuka says, There are souls like this; save them all, O God! My heart trembles, because they will all go to hell.
“How many children am I going to have? I wish they were dead,” says he. Accordingly he makes vows to the gods and sends them presents of food. If a priest comes to his house on a festival, he tells the children to shout and scare him away. “You will go short yourselves,” says he, “this fellow is death to victuals.” When he got shaved it cost him a pice, so he went to his wife and said “Wind up your concerns, have your hair cut off.” He never even dreams of holy places, or of worshipping the village linga. He shuts his door and sits outside it and tells people his house is ruined. Tuka says, There are souls like this; save them all, O God! My heart trembles, because they will all go to hell.