"Great scott! what's this? Well, if I'm not one of the darnd'st
fools on this side the crossin'. Well, if that ar' lawyer won't
think me a nice 'un, and like as not a thief."
Mr. Spriggins had been at Mr. Lawson's office some days' before, and
bore away some advice, written down, that he "might not forgit."
The barrister had received several visits from his client, and each
time had treated the said client with considerable favor.
Mr. Lawson somewhat admired the honest-hearted young farmer, and
really was interested in him, and felt a sympathy which was
unaccountable.
"One good turn deserves another, Mr. Lawson, and I may throw
something your way some day."
There really did appear to be little value in this remark; but
strange to say, in it were bound up Phillip Lawson's hopes,
happiness, yes, all that was dearer than life. The sturdy son of
toil proved his truest friend, and to the hour of his death he will
ever cherish the thought wholly sacred.
But of Mr. Spriggins' surprise!
He had opened the letter to read the advice on trespass (which
sooner or later is the experience of every farmer), when to his
dismay another letter dropped out.
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