NEIGHBORHOOD NUISANCE 207 



Within a month after the purchase of that 

 wheelbarrow I was one of the most popular men 

 in the community, free to borrow anything, from 

 money to elderberry wine, of which the neigh- 

 borhood had endless store. To me, to my wife, 

 to my children, to my man-servant whom I oc- 

 casionally hired for a few hours, to my maid- 

 servant of a more permanent nature, to my 

 cattle and the stranger within my gate, that 

 wheelbarrow was the most profitable investment 

 I ever made. 



Did I send a pitcher of cream to a neighbor, 

 it was followed in a day or two by a sort of cross- 

 counter in the shape of a box of fresh strawber- 

 ries. Did I send a setting of eggs from my choicest 

 fowl to another neighbor, he promptly retaliated 

 with a bunch of delicious radishes or a couple of 

 heads of lettuce, and honors were even. 



But I had things all my way with the wheel- 

 barrow, for I was the only one on the street who 

 owned one, and so, like the small boy who owns 

 the ball, I was the pitcher on the nine until a 

 new boy came along with a better ball. By these 

 simple and effective means did I remove from 

 my neighbors' minds all suspicions engendered 

 by my past life in other quarters of the town. 



Yet the one great exploit that put me into a 

 very warm place in the hearts of my neighbors, 

 was the slaughter of the neighborhood dragon, 



