Bansir frowned. "I earn so little. One-tenth is a few coppers."
One evening, a former childhood friend, Bansir the chariot builder, came to Arkad’s lavish home. Bansir’s clothes were threadbare, his hands calloused. "Arkad," Bansir said, "you and I played together as boys. We both worked hard. Yet you bathe in gold, while I struggle to buy a single donkey. Why?" najbogatiot covek vo vavilon
Arkad nodded. "Anyone can do this. Save a tenth. Let it grow. Avoid loss. Do this for ten years, and you will not be poor. Do it for thirty, and you will dine with kings." Bansir frowned