"And how comfortable you're looking, too, eh! It makes an old bachelor
like me feel lonesome when he contrasts his own solitary room with such
a scene of comfort as this. You've got a comfortable home, and dog
cheap, too. All my other tenants are grumbling to think you don't have
to pay any more for such superior accommodations. I've about made up my
mind that I must ask you twenty-five dollars a quarter hereafter."

All this was said very pleasantly, but the pill was none the less
bitter.

"It seems to me, Mr. Colman," answered the cooper, soberly, "you have
chosen rather a singular time for raising the rent."

"Why singular, my good sir?" inquired the landlord, urbanely.

"You know, of course, that this is a time of general business
depression; my own trade in particular has suffered greatly. For a month
past I have not been able to find any work."

Colman's face lost something of its graciousness.

"And I fear I shall not be able to pay my quarter's rent to-morrow."

"Indeed!" said the landlord, coldly. "Perhaps you can make it up within
two or three dollars."

"I can't pay a dollar toward it," said the cooper. "It's the first time,
in the five years I've lived here, that this thing has happened to me.
I've always been prompt before."