At the same time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the future Buddha was born one of a peasant family; and when he grew up, he gained his living by tilling the ground.
At that time a hawker used to go from place to place, trafficking in goods carried by an ass. Now at each place he came to, when he took the pack down from the ass's back, he used to clothe him in a lion's skin, and turn him loose in the rice and barley fields. And when the watchmen in the fields saw the ass, they dared not go near him, taking him for a lion.
So one day the hawker stopped in a village; and whilst he was getting his own breakfast cooked, he dressed the ass in a lion's skin, and turned him loose in a barley-field. The watchmen in the field dared not go up to him; but going home, they published the news. Then all the villagers came out with weapons in their hands; and blowing chanks, and beating drums, they went near the field and shouted.
Terrified with the fear of death, the ass uttered a cry the bray of an ass!
And when he knew him then to be an ass, the future Buddha pronounced the First Verse:
    "This is not a lion's roaring,     Nor a tiger's, nor a panther's;     Dressed in a lion's skin,       'Tis a wretched ass that roars!"
But when the villagers knew the creature to be an ass, they beat him till his bones broke; and, carrying off the lion's skin, went away.
Then the hawker came; and seeing the ass fallen into so bad a plight, pronounced the Second Verse:
    "Long might the ass,     Clad in a lion's skin,     Have fed on the barley green.
    But he brayed!
      And that moment he came to ruin."
And even whilst he was yet speaking the ass died on the spot!
The Farmer and the Money-lender 
There was once a farmer who suffered much at the hands of a money-lender. Good harvests, or bad, the farmer was always poor, the money-lender rich. At the last, when he hadn't a farthing left, farmer went to the money-lender's house, and said, "You can't squeeze water from a stone, and as you have nothing to get by me now, you might tell me the secret of becoming rich."
"My friend," returned the money-lender, piously, "riches come from Ram ask him."
"Thank you, I will!" replied the simple farmer; so he prepared three girdle-cakes to last him on the journey, and set out to find Ram.
First he met a Brahman, and to him he gave a cake, asking him to point out the road to Ram; but the Brahman only took the cake and went on his way without a word. Next the farmer met a Jogi or devotee, and to him he gave a cake, without receiving any help in return. At last, he came upon a poor man sitting under a tree, and finding out he was hungry, the kindly farmer gave him his last cake, and sitting down to rest beside him, entered into conversation.
"And where are you going?" asked the poor man, at length.
"Oh, I have a long journey before me, for I am going to find Ram!"
replied the farmer. "I don't suppose you could tell me which way to go?"
"Perhaps I can," said the poor man, smiling, "for I am Ram! What do you want of me?"
Then the farmer told the whole story, and Ram, taking pity on him, gave him a conch shell, and showed him how to blow it in a particular way, saying, "Remember! whatever you wish for, you have only to blow the conch that way, and your wish will be fulfilled. Only have a care of that money-lender, for even magic is not proof against their wiles!"
The farmer went back to his village rejoicing. In fact the money-lender noticed his high spirits at once, and said to himself, "Some good fortune must have befallen the stupid fellow, to make him hold his head so jauntily." Therefore he went over to the simple farmer's house, and congratulated him on his good fortune, in such cunning words, pretending to have heard all about it, that before long the farmer found himself telling the whole story all except the secret of blowing the conch, for, with all his simplicity, the farmer was not quite such a fool as to tell that.
Nevertheless, the money-lender determined to have the conch by hook or by crook, and as he was villain enough not to stick at trifles, he waited for a favourable opportunity and stole the conch.
But, after nearly bursting himself with blowing the conch in every conceivable way, he was obliged to give up the secret as a bad job.
However, being determined to succeed he went back to the farmer, and said, coolly, "Look here; I've got your conch, but I can't use it; you haven't got it, so it's clear you can't use it either. Business is at a stand-still unless we make a bargain. Now, I promise to give you back your conch, and never to interfere with your using it, on one condition, which is this, whatever you get from it, I am to get double."
"Never!" cried the farmer; "that would be the old business all over again!"