RILEY, THE MISER. 369 



"At that time Peter Pickle lived in a house three 

 or four doors from my stable- He was one of those 

 easy going mortals that always had time to help a 

 neighbor, but no time to do a little work for himself. 

 He would argue for one hour that two and two 

 would make five, if the teacher only thought so, and 

 never told the scholars different, or that the world 

 was flat, and if you came too near the edge you 

 would drop off in space. This was the kind of work 

 he enjoyed. Then if there was a fire or a hurrah of 

 any kind, he would toil from morning to night with- 

 out a whimper, but if it came to hoeing a few pota- 

 toes or a patch of corn for himself, well, he would 

 let that jog on until to-morrow, or until his wife or 

 someone who knew her would turn to and do it. 

 Under such conditions it is not hard to guess how 

 he stood in money matters, but as the bills were 

 always paid, and no complaints made to the village, 

 those who passed up the street smiled as they saw 

 Peter sitting day after day on a box in front of 

 Flynn's store where the old fogies, as they termed 

 themselves, met to talk matters over. 



"The women folk, however, knew that Peter's 

 wife was working week in and week out at her trade 

 in order to earn food for herself and daughter, as well 

 as her shiftless husband. As for rent, well, Riley, 

 the miser, as they called him, owned the house at 

 the time and I have been told by those who went over 

 his books after he died, that they found an entry that 

 no rent was to be charged for the place. Mary Rid- 

 dle was a dressmaker when she married Peter Pickle. 

 She told me herself that she refused Riley because 

 he was stingy in money matters as a young man ; 



