Once upon a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares. There lived a shifty rascal in the form of an ascetic. He was having long matted hair. The squire of the place had a hermitage built in the forest for him to live in, and used to provide excellent food from his own house. The squire took the matted haired rascal to be a model of goodness, and living. In fear of robbers, the squire brought a hundred pieces of gold to the hermitage and buried them there, bidding the ascetic keep watch over them.

“No need to say that to a man who has renounced the world; we hermits never touch other man’s gold.” The squire went off with full confidence in the other’s protestations. Then the rascally ascetic thought to himself, “There’s enough here to keep a man all his life long.” Allowing a few days to elapse first, he removed the gold and buried it by the wayside, returning to live as before in his hermitage.

Next day, after a meal of rice at the squire’s house, the ascetic said, “It is now a long time, since I began to be supported by you; and to live long in one place is like living in the world, which is forbidden to professed ascetics. So I must go.” Though the squire pressed him to stay, he refused.

The squire escorted the ascetic to the outskirts before he left him. After going a little way the ascetic thought that it would be a good thing to cajole the squire; so, putting a straw in his matted hair, he turned back again. “What brings you back?” asked the squire. “A straw from your roof had stuck in my hair: and, as we hermits may not take anything which is not bestowed upon us; I have brought it back to you.”

“Throw it down, sir, and go your way,” said the squire, who thought to himself, “Why, he won’t take so much as a straw which does not belong to him! What a sensitive nature!” Highly delighted with the ascetic, the squire bid him farewell.

Now at the time, that the Bodhisatta, who was on his way to the border district for trading purposes, had halted for the night at that village. Hearing what the ascetic said, the suspicion was aroused in his mind that the rascally ascetic must have robbed the squire of some thing and he asked the latter whether he had deposited anything in the ascetic’s care.

“Yes, a hundred pieces of gold.”

“Well, just go and see if it’s all safe.”

The squire went to the hermitage, and looked, and found his money gone. Running back to the Bodhisatta, he cried, “It’s not there.” “The thief is none other than that long haired rascal of an ascetic,” said the Bodhisatta; “let us pursue and catch him.” So searched everywhere. When they caught the rascal they kicked and cuffed him, till he disclosed to them where he had hidden the money. When he procured the gold, the Bodhisatta, looking at it, scornfully remarked to the ascetic, “So a hundred pieces of gold didn’t trouble your conscience so much as that straw!”

The Bodhisatta said, “And now take care, you hypocrite, that you don’t play such a trick again.” When his life ended, the Bodhisatta passed away to fare thereafter according to his deserts.