A cobbler passed his time in singing from morning till night;it was wonderful to see，wonderful to hear him;he was more contented in shoes，than was any of the seven sages.his neighbor，on the contrary，who was rolling in wealth，sung but little and slept less.he was a banker;when by chance he fell into a doze at day-break，the cobbler awoke him with his song.the banker complained sadly that providence had not made sleep a saleable commodity，like edibles or drinkables.having at length sent for the songster，he said to him，"how much a year do you earn，master gregory?" "how much a year，sir?"said the merry cobbler laughing，"i have reckon in that way，living as i do from one day to another;somehow i manage to reach the end of the year;each day brings its meal." "well then!how much a day do you earn，my friend?""sometimes more，sometimes less;but the worst of it is，-and，without that our earnings would be very tolerable，-a number of days occur in the year on which we are forbidden to work;and the curate，moreover，is constantly adding some new saint to the list." the banker，laughing at his simplicity，said，"in the future i shall place you above want.take this hundred crowns，preserve them carefully，and make use of them in time of need."the cobbler fancied he beheld all the wealth which the earth had produced in the past century for the use of mankind.returning home，he buried his money and his happiness at the same time，no more singin;he lost his voice，the moment he acquired that which is the source of so much grief.sleep quitted his dwelling;and cares，suspicions，and false alarms took its place，all day，his eye wandered in the direction of his treasure;and at night，if some stray cat made a noise，the cat was robbing him.at length the poor man ran to the house of his rich neighbor;"give me back." said he，"sleep and my voice，and take your hundred crowns."
一個皮匠從早到晚在唱歌中度過。無論見到他本人或聽見他的歌聲都使人覺得很愉快。他對于制鞋工作比當上了希臘七對還要滿足。與此相反，他的鄰居是個銀行家，擁有萬貫家財，卻很少唱歌，晚上也睡得不好。他偶爾在黎明時分迷迷糊糊剛入睡，皮匠的歌聲便于工作把他吵醒了。銀行家郁郁寡歡地抱怨上帝沒有睡眠也制成一種像食品或飲料那樣可以買賣的商品。后來，銀行家就叫人把這位歌手請來，問道：“格列戈里師傅，你一年賺多少錢?”“先生，你問我一年賺多少錢嗎?”快樂的皮匠笑道：“我從來不算這筆帳，我是一天一天地過日子，總而言之堅持到年底，每天掙足三餐。”“啊，朋友，那么你一天賺多少錢呢?”“有時多一點，有時少一點;不過最糟糕的是一年中總有些日子不準我們做買賣，牧師又常常在圣徒名單上添新名字，否則我們的收入也還算不錯的。”銀行家被皮匠的直率逗笑了，他說：“我要你從今以后不愁沒錢用。這一百枚錢你拿去，小心放好，需要時拿來用吧。”皮匠覺自己好像看到了過去幾百年來大地為人類所需而制造出來的全部財富。他回到家中，埋藏好硬幣，同時也埋葬了他的快樂。他不再唱歌了;從他得到這種痛苦的根源那一刻起，他的嗓子就啞了。睡眠與他分手;取而代之的卻是擔心、懷疑、虛驚。白天，他的目光盡朝埋藏硬幣的方向望;夜間，如果有只迷途的貓弄出一點聲響，他就以為是有人來搶他的錢。最后，這個可憐的皮匠跑到他那富有的鄰居家里說：“把你的一百枚錢拿回去，還我的睡眠和歌聲來。”
