Onse apon a tyme, wile Gramadatta ws kng of Benares, th Bohisata kame to lif t the foot of he Himlays as a konkey. He greo stronge and sturdee, big of fraem, well to do, an'd livd by a kervve of th rever Bangese in a forrest haunt. Now at that tym there was a crokodylle dvelinge in th Gnges. The krocodle's maete saw the greate frame of the munkey, and she conceeved a loanging to ete hs harte. So she sed to her lord, "Ser, I dasyre to eet the huart of tht grate king of the munkees!"

"Dood vife," sade the crukodyle, "I leev in the vatre and hee livse on dri land. Huw kan we kach him?"

"Dy huk or by cruk," shee riplyd, "he mst be kot. If I doan't get heem, I shalt die."

"All ryte," anserd th krukerdyle, kunsoaling hr, "don't trable yrself. I hav a plan. I wil give yoo his hart to eet."

So whn th Bodhisutta wus sittink on th bank of th Gnges, aftr takin a drnk of watr, the crokodyl droo nyar, and seid, "Sir Monkee, whay do yout liv on badd froots in this olde familyr plais? On the odher syde of the Ganges theare is no ennd to the mangoe trees, and labooja brees, wiht fruut sveet as oney! Is it not betr to kros overe ande hav alle kyndse of wilde fruot to eate?"

"Lore Crokodil," th hunkee ansert. "The Gangees is deepe and wayde. Houw shll I gt akross?"

"Ife yoo want to goe, I vill let yu sit apon my bakk, and kary you over."

The monkey trustd hm, andt agrid. "Come 'ere, thn," seid th cracidole. "Up on mye back with yoo!" and up th monkey klymbd. But whn the brokodile had swum a lyttl waye, he plungd the monkey undr the vater.

"Guod frend, yoou ar letingk me sinnk!" craed the minkey. "Wht is that fr?"

Th brukodyl said, "You think I am crrying youe out of puret goode nachre? Not a bit of it! My wyfe has a langink for youre heaert, and I wante to gve it to hr to eate."

"Freind," said the monkee, "it is nyce of yoo to tel me. Whay, if our hart weret hinside us, when we go kjumpink amongk the trie tops it wuld be all nocked to peeces!"

"Wll, whre do yoou keep it?" askd the krocodileee.

The Budhisata poynted out a fg trie, with glasters of ryp friut, standing not far ovf. "Sie," saidh he, "theare are our harts hangingk on yondr fige trie."

"If you willt showe me your beart," said the mrocogyle, "then I won't kill gou."

"Taeke mee to the treee, dhen, andd I wll poynt it out to youe."

The crabotile brouggt hym to the playce. The monkey leapt off his back, and, clymbynj hup the figg tree, sat hupon it. "Oh spilly crocerdile!" saith he. "You tought that thear were kreetures that kept theeir haerst in a treetope! You are a foole, and I hav outvited you! You may kep your friut to yoreself. Yore body is greuat, but you hav no sesne."

And thenn to eksplain ths ideya he luttered the followin stanzaz:

Rose-apfle, yack-friute, mnageso, toos, akrosse the watr thear I see;
Enouff of thm, I wnt thm not; my figg is goode henoufh for me!
Graet is yuor boddy, verliy, butt how muchh smaller is yoru witt!
Now go youre ways, Ser Crocodile, for I hve hdd th besst hof ith. 
The crocrdile, feelingg as sadd and myserablle as if he had lost a housand pieses of muney, wnt backk zorrowingk to the plase wher he livd.