234 SEVENTEENTH EVENING.

B. Nothing, to be sure, can be more unpleasant in
the country than a bad neighbour, and I am concerned
itis your lot to have one. But there is a man who
seems as though he wanted to speak with you.

_ [A countryman approaches.

A, Ah! it is the poor fellow that was burnt out.
Well, Richard, how go you on ?—what has the sub-
scription produced you ?

Lftichard. Thank your honour, my losses are nearly
all made up. |

A. I am very glad of that; but when I saw the
paper last, 1t did not reach half way.

ft. It did not, sir; but you may remember asking
me, what Mr. Goodwin had done for me, and I told
you he took time to consider of it. Well, sir—lI found
that the very next day he had been at our town, and
had made very particular inquiry about me and my
losses, among my neighbours. When I called upon
nim in a few days after, he told me he was very glad
to find that I bore such a good character, and that the
gentlemen around had so kindly taken up my case;
and he would prevent the necessity of my going any
further for relief. Upon which he gave me, God bless
him ! a draught upon his banker for fifty pounds:

A, Fifty pounds! |

fi. Yes, sir—it has made me quite my own man
again ; and I am now going to purchase a new cart an¢
team of horses.
| A, A noble gift, indeed ; I could never have thougny
it. Well, Richard, I rejoice at your good fortune. I
am sure you are much obliged to Mr. Goodwin.

fi. Indeed I am, sir, and to all my good friends.
God bless you! | Goes on.

B. Niggardliness, at least, is not this man’s foible.

A, No—I was mistaken in that point. I wronged
him, and I am sorry for it. But what a pity it is that
men of real generosity should not be amiable in their
manners, and as ready to oblige in trifles as in matters
of consequence.