"I never 'ad no luck," said the impenitent carpenter. "Nobody ever left
me no money. Nobody ever left me so much as a fi-pun note."

He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and drawing on his
coat, took his bag from a corner, and hoisting it on his shoulder,
started to his work. He scattered the news as he went, and it ran up and
down the little main street of Thatcham, and thence to the outlying lanes
and cottages. Within a couple of hours it was common property, and the
fortunate legatee was presented with a congratulatory address every time
she ventured near the door.

It is an old adage that money makes friends; the carpenter was surprised
to find that the mere fact of his having a moneyed relation had the same
effect, and that men to whom he had hitherto shown a certain amount of
respect due to their position now sought his company. They stood him
beer at the "Bell," and walked by his side through the street. When they
took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was
radiant with happiness.

"You don't seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger," said the
wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening.

"H'm?" said the startled carpenter.

"What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?" demanded his
wife.

"Smoke his pipe," replied her husband, confidently.