But knowing how to make money is quite a different thing from knowing how to enjoy it. With all his ill-gotten gains, Chang Wang was a miserable man, for he had no heart to spend his silver pieces, even on his own comfort. The rich dealer lived in a hut which one of his own labourers might have despised; he dressed as a poor Tartar shepherd might have dressed when driving his flock. Chang Wang grudged himself even a hat to keep off the rays of the sun. Men laughed, and said that he would have cut off his own pigtail of plaited hair, if he could have sold it for the price of a dinner! Chang Wang was, in fact, a miser, and was rather proud than ashamed of the hateful vice of avarice.
Chang Wang had to make a journey to Macao, down the great river Yang-se-kiang, for purposes of trade. The question with the Chinaman now was in what way he should travel.
"Shall I hire a palanquin?" thought Chang Wang, stroking his thin moustaches. "No, a palanquin would cost too much money. Shall I take my passage in a trading vessel?"
The rich trader shook his head, and the pigtail behind it,—such a passage would have to be paid for.
"I know what I'll do," said the miser to himself; "I'll ask my uncle Fing Fang to take me in his fishing boat down the great river. It is true that it will make my journey a long one, but then I shall make it for nothing. I'll go to the fisherman Fing Fang, and settle the matter at once."
The business was soon arranged, for Fing Fang would not refuse his rich nephew a seat in his boat. But he, like every one else, was disgusted at Chang Wang's meanness; and as soon as the dealer had left his hovel, thus spoke Fing Fang to his sons, Ko and Jung,—
"Here's a fellow who has scraped up money enough to build a second porcelain tower, and he comes here to beg a free passage in a fishing boat from an uncle whom he has never so much as asked to share a dish of his birds' nests soup!"
"Birds' nests soup, indeed!" exclaimed Ko. "Why, Chang Wang never indulges in luxuries such as that. If dogs' flesh * were not so cheap, he'd grudge himself the paw of a roasted puppy!"
"And what will Chang Wang make of all his money at last?" said Fing Fang more gravely. "He cannot carry it away with him when he dies!"