..续本文上一页 responsibilities, my state of mind began to grow a bit slack. This can be gauged by the fact that the first year, when any of the other young monks came to talk to me about worldly matters — women and wealth — I really hated it, but the second year I began to like it. My third year at Wat Sra Pathum I began to study Pali grammar, after having passed the Third Level Dhamma exams in 1929. My responsibilities had become heavier — and I was getting pretty active at discussing worldly matters. But when my way of life began to reach this point, there were a number of events, both inside and outside the temple, that helped bring me to my senses.

　　One day, towards the end of the second Rains Retreat, I discovered that more than 900 baht had disappeared from the temple accounts. For days I checked over the books, but couldn”t find where it had gone. Normally I made a practice of reporting to my preceptor on the first of each month, but when the first of the month came around this time, I didn”t go to see him. I questioned everyone who worked with me, but they all denied having any knowledge of the missing funds. Finally another possibility occurred to me: Nai Bun, a student who attended to my preceptor. Some mornings he would ask for the key to the Green Hall to keep while I went out on my alms round. So I asked Phra Baitika Bunrawd to question Nai Bun, who finally admitted to having stolen the money while I was out.

　　The whole affair was my preceptor”s fault. One morning he had been invited to accept some donations on the day following a cremation at the house of a nobleman, but his ceremonial fan and shoulder bag were kept in my room, and since I had gone out for alms and taken the key with me, he couldn”t get to them. So from then on he told me to leave the key with Nai Bun every morning before going out for alms, and this was how the money had disappeared. I was lucky that Nai Bun had admitted his guilt. I went back to check the books carefully and discovered that, of the missing funds, more than 700 baht had come from the temple funds, and the remainder from my preceptor”s personal funds.

　　So on October 5th, now that everything was in order, I went to tell my closest friends, Phra Baitika Bunrawd and Phra Chyam, "I”m going to make a report to the abbot at five o”clock today."

　　"Don”t," Phra Chyam said. "I”ll make up for the missing money myself."

　　I appreciated his offer, but didn”t think it was a good idea. It would be better to be open and aboveboard about the whole affair. Otherwise the boy would start developin, g bad habits.

　　My preceptor had gotten cross with both of my friends over the temple books many times before, so when the time came for me to make my report, they went to hide in their quarters, shutting their doors tight, leaving me to face my preceptor alone. Before I made my report, I went to the Green Hall, swept and scrubbed the floor, prepared the betel nut, spread out a sitting mat for my preceptor, and then sat there waiting for him. A little after four o”clock, he left the large new set of quarters built for him by Lady Talap, wife of Chao Phraya Yomaraj, and came to sit in the Green Hall. When he had finished his tea and betel nut, I approached him to make my report about the missing funds. Before I had even finished my first sentence, he got cross. "Why have you waited till the fifth this month to make your report

　　 Usually you make it on the first."

　　"The reason I didn”t come on the first," I answered, "was because I had some doubts about the accounts and the people involved. But now I”m sure that the money is really missing — and I”ve found the guilty party."

　　"Who

　　" he asked.

　　"Nai Bun," I answered. "He”s already confessed."

　　"Bring him here," he ordered, and then added, "This is embarrassing. Don”t let word …

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