n days of yore there lived in the flourishing city of Cairo a Hebrew Rabbi, by name Jochonan, who was the most learned of his nation. His fame went over the East, and the most distant people sent their young men to imbibe wisdom from his lips. He was deeply skilled in the traditions of the fathers, and his word on a disputed point was decisive. He was pious, just, temperate, and strict; but he had one vice: a love of gold had seized upon his heart, and he opened not his hand to the poor. Yet he was wealthy above most: his wisdom being to him the source of riches. The Hebrews of the city were grieved at this blemish on the wisest of their people; but, though the elders of the tribes continued to reverence him for his fame, the women and children of Cairo called him by no other name than that of Rabbi Jochonan the Miser.
None knew so well as he the ceremonies necessary for initiation into the religion of Moses, and, consequently, the exercise of those solemn offices was to him another source of gain. One day, as he walked in the fields about Cairo, conversing with a youth on the interpretation of the law, it so happened that the Angel of Death smote the young man suddenly, and he fell dead before the feet of the Rabbi, even while he was yet speaking. When the Rabbi found that the youth was dead, he rent his garments, and glorified the Lord. But his heart was touched, and the thoughts of death troubled him in the visions of the night. He felt uneasy when he reflected on his hardness to the poor; and he said,
"Blessed be the name of the Lord! The first good thing that I am asked to do in that holy name will I perform." But he sighed, for he feared that some one might ask of him a portion of his gold.
While yet he thought upon these things, there came a loud cry at his gate.
"Awake, thou sleeper!" said the voice, "awake! A child is in danger of death, and the mother hath sent me for thee, that thou mayest do thine office."
"The night is dark and gloomy," said the Rabbi, coming to his casement, "and mine age is great: are there not younger men than I in Cairo?"
"For thee only, Rabbi Jochonan, whom some call the Wise, but whom others call Rabbi Jochonan the Miser, was I sent. Here is gold," said he, taking out a purse of sequins; "I want not thy labour for nothing. I adjure thee to come, in the name of the living God."
So the Rabbi thought upon the vow he had just made, and he groaned in spirit, for the purse sounded heavy.
"As thou hast adjured me by that name, I go with thee," said he to the man; "but I hope the distance is not far. Put up thy gold."