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 your wife, my man; she is bound to bear them—what else is she for, in fact?'

'I'll thank you to let my affairs alone,' interrupted Tom, shortly.

'Tom, I'm your friend; I think I can help you out of your difficulty. I admire your spirit. Would I demean myself to work for a master, and attend to all his whims?' As he said this the small man stooped and looked very earnestly into the stream. Drip, drip, drip, went the water over a little fall in the stones, and wetted the watercresses till they shone in the light, while the leaves fluttered overhead and checkered the moss with glittering spots of sunshine. Tom watched the small man with earnest attention as he turned over the leaves of the cresses. At last he saw him snatch something, which looked like a little fish, out of the water, and put it in his pocket.

'It's my belief, Tom,' he said, resuming the conversation, 'that you have been puzzling your head with what people call Political Economy.'

'Never heard of such a thing,' said Tom. ' But I've been thinking that I don't see why I'm to work any more than those that employ me.'

'Why, you see, Tom, you must have money. Now it seems to me that there are but four ways of getting money: there's Stealing'—

'Which won't suit me.' interrupted Tom.

'Very good. Then there's Borrowing'—

'Which I don't want to do.'

'And there's Begging'—

'No, thank you,' said Tom, stoutly.

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