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a certain city, in a certain state, there once lived a merchant Nicholas with his wife. From the beginning they lived happily and were wealthy. But their chief joy was in this: that the Lord had presented them with a son, and such a beautiful son too! Sensible and wise—and the only prayer which the mother and father addressed to God and to his holy godfather St. Nicholas the Wonder-Worker, was that they should endow him with happiness and long life.

But, as old age crept on, they, for some reason, began to become poor; and they became so poor that Nicholas, from a famous merchant, became a mere tradesman, and they only had one little shop, and in the shop there was a chest of tobacco, a few nails, and a little iron. And either from the fact that they were growing poorer, or that they were becoming older, the mother and father of Iván—for this was the name of Nicholas's son—had become feeble.

One day the father called Iván to him, and said: "Now, our beloved son, we, it seems, shall soon die; but do you not weep for us, but rather pray God. For we have already lived out our life; and this is as it must be. But you bury us properly, for I have saved up money for you for this purpose. One third of the money you are to spend on the funeral, the second on the Requiem Mass, and with the third buy a shop and go into trade. And I will give you my blessing. Do not give any one false measure or cheat; and if you shall grow rich, do not forget God, and to give alms to the