The Merry Past 



a basket which, from the pheasant's feathers pro- 

 truding from it, seemed full of game. 



The man who brought it told the old usurer 

 that it was a gift from a sympathiser with whom 

 he had had dealings in former days. 



Pope was quite touched, and remarking that it 

 was pleasant to find oneself remembered by old 

 clients, paid the bearer the somewhat large amount 

 he asked for having brought the basket. The man 

 left full of delight, a feeling not shared by Pope 

 when he found nothing but bricks and rubbish 

 inside. 



Sending presents of this kind was very popular in 

 former days. When the dog tax was passed Mr. 

 Dent, who had introduced it, received no less than 

 two hundred hampers containing dead dogs packed 

 up like game with curious complimentary letters. 



Another parsimonious character was Mr. Guy, 

 the founder of the hospital which bears his name 

 in the borough of Southwark — a man as remarkable 

 for his petty private economies as for his public 

 munificence. He invariably dined alone, a soiled 

 proof-sheet, or an old newspaper, being his constant 

 substitute for a table-cloth. 



As Mr. Guy was one winter evening sitting in his 

 room meditating over a handful of half-lighted 

 embers, confined within the narrow precincts of a 

 brick stove, and without any candle, a visitor was 

 introduced, and after the usual compliments had been 

 passed, and the new arrival asked to take a seat, 

 Mr, Guy lighted a farthing candle, which lay ready 



HI 



