“Oh, then, ’tis little matter who I am. I’m a poor, old, lame, decrepit, miserable creature, sitting down here to rest awhile.”
“An’ what are you doing with that box and dice I see in your hand?”
“I am waiting here to see if any one will play a game with me," replied the beggar man.
“Play with you! Why what has a poor old man like you to play for?”
“I have one hundred pieces of gold in this leathern purse,” replied the old man.
“You may as well play with him,” said the story-teller’s wife; “and perhaps you’ll have something to tell the king in the evening.”
A smooth stone was placed between them, and upon it they cast their throws.
It was but a little while and the story-teller lost every penny of his money.
“Much good may it do you, friend,” said he. “What better hap could I look for, fool that I am!”
“Will you play again?” asked the old man.