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Old man who made withered trees to flower.
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Long, long ago there lived an old man and his wife who supported
themselves by cultivating a small plot of land. Their life had been a
very happy and peaceful one save for one great sorrow, and this was
they had no child. Their only pet was a dog named Shiro, and on him
they lavished all the affection of their old age. Indeed, they loved
him so much that whenever they had anything nice to eat they denied
themselves to give it to Shiro. Now Shiro means "white," and he was so
called because of his color. He was a real Japanese dog, and very like
a small wolf in appearance.
The happiest hour of the day both for the old man and his dog was when
the man returned from his work in the field, and having finished his
frugal supper of rice and vegetables, would take what he had saved from
the meal out to the little veranda that ran round the cottage. Sure
enough, Shiro was waiting for his master and the evening tit-bit. Then
the old man said "Chin, chin!" and Shiro sat up and begged, and his
master gave him the food. Next door to this good old couple there lived
another old man and his wife who were both wicked and cruel, and who
hated their good neighbors and the dog Shiro with all their might.
Whenever Shiro happened to look into their kitchen they at once kicked
him or threw something at him, sometimes even wounding him.
One day Shiro was heard barking for a long time in the field at the
back of his master's house. The old man, thinking that perhaps some
birds were attacking the corn, hurried out to see what was the matter.
As soon as Shiro saw his master he ran to meet him, wagging his tail,
and, seizing the end of his kimono, dragged him under a large yenoki
tree. Here he began to dig very industriously with his paws, yelping
with joy all the time. The old man, unable to understand what it all
meant, stood looking on in bewilderment. But Shiro went on barking and
digging with all his might.
The thought that something might be hidden beneath the tree, and that
the dog had scented it, at last struck the old man. He ran back to the
house, fetched his spade and began to dig the ground at that spot. What
was his astonishment when, after digging for some time, he came upon a
heap of old and valuable coins, and the deeper he dug the more gold
coins did he find. So intent was the old man on his work that he never
saw the cross face of his neighbor peering at him through the bamboo
hedge. At last all the gold coins lay shining on the ground. Shiro sat
by erect with pride and looking fondly at his master as if to say, "You
see, though only a dog, I can make some return for all the kindness you
The old man ran in to call his wife, and together they carried home the
treasure. Thus in one day the poor old man became rich. His gratitude
to the faithful dog knew no bounds, and he loved and petted him more
than ever, if that were possible.
The cross old neighbor, attracted by Shiro's barking, had been an
unseen and envious witness of the finding of the treasure. He began to
think that he, too, would like to find a fortune. So a few days later
he called at the old man's house and very ceremoniously asked
permission to borrow Shiro for a short time.
Shiro's master thought this a strange request, because he knew quite
well that not only did his neighbor not love his pet dog, but that he
never lost an opportunity of striking and tormenting him whenever the
dog crossed his path. But the good old man was too kind-hearted to
refuse his neighbor, so he consented to lend the dog on condition that
he should be taken great care of.
The wicked old man returned to his home with an evil smile on his face,
and told his wife how he had succeeded in his crafty intentions. He
then took his spade and hastened to his own field, forcing the
unwilling Shiro to follow him. As soon as he reached a yenoki tree, he
said to the dog, threateningly:
"If there were gold coins under your master's tree, there must also be
gold coins under my tree. You must find them for me! Where are they?
And catching hold of Shiro's neck he held the dog's head to the ground,
so that Shiro began to scratch and dig in order to free himself from
the horrid old man's grasp.
The old man was very pleased when he saw the dog begin to scratch and
dig, for he at once supposed that some gold coins lay buried under his
tree as well as under his neighbor's, and that the dog had scented them
as before; so pushing Shiro away he began to dig himself, but there was
nothing to be found. As he went on digging a foul smell was noticeable,
and he at last came upon a refuse heap.
The old man's disgust can be imagined. This soon gave way to anger. He
had seen his neighbor's good fortune, and hoping for the same luck
himself, he had borrowed the dog Shiro; and now, just as he seemed on
the point of finding what he sought, only a horrid smelling refuse heap
had rewarded him for a morning's digging. Instead of blaming his own
greed for his disappointment, he blamed the poor dog. He seized his
spade, and with all his strength struck Shiro and killed him on the
spot. He then threw the dog's body into the hole which he had dug in
the hope of finding a treasure of gold coins, and covered it over with
the earth. Then he returned to the house, telling no one, not even his
wife, what he had done.