into possession of their farms. These were of very different value.
Goodenough's wanted improvement, but would pay richly for any that
should be judiciously made; Wright's farm was by far the worst of the
three; and Marvel's the best.

The Lincolnshire world was much divided in opinion concerning these
young men; and many bets were laid relating to the legacy. People judged
according to their own characters; the enterprising declared for Marvel,
the prudent for Wright, the timid for Goodenough.

The nephews had scarcely been in possession of their farms a week when,
one evening, as they were all supping together at Wright's house, Marvel
suddenly turned to Goodenough, and exclaimed, "When do you begin your
improvements, cousin Goodenough?"

"Never, cousin Marvel."

"Then you'll never touch the ten thousand, my boy. What! will you
do nothing to your marsh? Nothing to your common? Nothing to your
plantations? Do not you mean ever to make any improvements?"

"I mean not to make any improvements."

"Well, you'll let me make some for you."

"Not I."

"No! Won't you let me cut down some of those trees for you, that are
spoiling one another in your wood?"