"You have cause to be," I remarked. "The great Father hath covered your table with blessings."
"And yet we are poor—VERY POOR," said he, "for we are neither contented nor thankful. We ask for more than we possess, and, because it is not given, we are fretful and impatient. Yes, yes—we, not the Wightmans, are poor—very poor."
And with these words on his lips, my old friend turned from me, and walked slowly away, his head bent in musing attitude to the ground. Not long afterwards, I heard that he had failed.
"Ah!" thought I, when this news reached me, "now you are poor, VERY poor, indeed!" And it was so.