"Then I went out and strolled around. A lot of yellow monks live
over the west wall, and pass the time, meditatin' on selected
subjects and teachin' school. Monks, now, are the mildest lot of old
ladies out. The institution furnishes two meals a day, and they all
go into the city mornings with begging bowls to give people a chance
to acquire merit by charity. Then they come back and give away what
they've collected to poverty that's collected at the gate. That way
they acquire merit for themselves. Economical, ain't it? Then I saw
how old Lo Tsin felt. He admired the economy of it anyway. I guess he
admired it all around. He stood pat by his own temple, and then got
himself buried there. The thing give him a soft spot on the head.
"Now, they think I'm a sort of an abbot, and folks come in from
everywhere to show me a cut finger and discuss their sinfulness, and
if Nan's mother ain't mad because the temple keeps puttin' her off
with girls, then Kiyi's got the fever and chills, or somethin' else
is goin' on. Always something to worry about. But a man can go over
to the Pagoda, and tell 'em 'All things are one,' and get three
hundred identical opinions to agree with.
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