"
In less than two minutes he stripped, put on one of the Squire's best
shirts, and spread out his own dusky fragment in its place.
"It's a good thing," said Art, "to have a clear conscience; a fair
exchange is no robbery."
Now, it so happened that the Squire himself, who was a humorist, and
also a justice of the peace, saw Art putting his morality in practice at
the hedge. He immediately walked out with an intention of playing off
a trick upon the fool for his dishonesty; and he felt the greater
inclination to do this in consequence of an opinion long current, that
Art, though he had outwitted several, had never been outwitted himself.
Art had been always a welcome guest in the Squire's kitchen, and never
passed the "Big House," as an Irish country gentleman's residence is
termed, without calling. On this occasion, however, he was too cunning
to go near it--a fact which the Squire observed. By taking a short cut
across one of his own fields, he got before Art, and turning the angle
of a hedge, met him trotting along at his usual pace.
"Well, Art, where now?"
"To the crass roads, your honor."
"Art, is not this a fine place of mine? Look at these groves, and the
lawn, and the river there, and the mountains behind all. Is it not equal
to Sir William E-----'s?"
Sir William was Art's favorite patron.
"Sir William, your honor, has all this at his place.
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