“Why, surely,” he replied, “you cannot think us such fools as to disregard the teachings of our gods!  That would be madness.  I cannot imagine a people so mentally and morally depraved as that!  Can you?”

Observing me blushing and stammering, he inquired the cause of my embarrassment.  “The thought of so incredible a thing confuses me,” I managed to reply.  “But tell me if in your piety and wisdom you really stripped yourself of all your property in order to obey the gods and get the benefit of indigence.”

“I did not have to do so,” he replied with a smile; “my King attended to that.  When he wishes to distinguish one of his subjects by a mark of his favor, he impoverishes him to such a degree as will attest the exact measure of the royal approbation.  I am proud to say that he took from me all that I had.”

“But, pardon me,” I said; “how does it occur that among a people which regards poverty as the greatest earthly good all are not poor?  I observe here as much wealth and ‘prosperity’ as in my own country.”

Juptka-Getch smiled and after a few moments answered:  “The only person in this country that owns anything is the King; in the service of his people he afflicts himself with that burden.  All property, of whatsoever kind, is his, to do with as he will.  He divides it among his subjects in the ratio of their demerit, as determined by the waguks—­local officers—­whose duty it is to know personally every one in their jurisdiction.  To the most desperate and irreclaimable criminals is allotted the greatest wealth, which is taken from them, little by little, as they show signs of reformation.”

“But what,” said I, “is to prevent the wicked from becoming poor at any time?  How can the King and his officers keep the unworthy, suffering the punishment and peril of wealth, from giving it away?”

“To whom, for example?” replied the illustrious man, taking the forefinger of his right hand into his mouth, as is the fashion in Ghargaroo when awaiting an important communication.  The respectful formality of the posture imperfectly concealed the irony of the question, but I was not of the kind to be easily silenced.

“One might convert one’s property into money,” I persisted, “and throw the money into the sea.”

Juptka-Getch released the finger and gravely answered:  “Every person in Ghargaroo is compelled by law to keep minute accounts of his income and expenditures, and must swear to them.  There is an annual appraisement by the waguk, and any needless decrease in the value of an estate is punished by breaking the offender’s legs.  Expenditures for luxuries and high living are, of course, approved, for it is universally known among us, and attested by many popular proverbs, that the pleasures of the rich are vain and disappointing.  So they are considered a part of the punishment, and not only allowed but required.  A man sentenced to wealth who lives frugally, indulging in only rational and inexpensive delights, has his ears cut off for the first offense, and for the second is compelled to pass six months at court, participating in all the gaieties, extravagances and pleasures of the capital, and——­”