The new neighbours not only declined quarrelling, but they occasionally made positive advances towards a friendly relation. Simeon’s wife sent Mrs. Black a large basket full of very fine cherries. Pleased with the unexpected attention, she cordially replied, “Tell your mother it was _very_ kind of her, and I am very much obliged to her.” Reuben, who sat smoking in the chimney-corner, listened to this message once without any manifestation of impatience, except whiffing the smoke through his pipe a little faster and fiercer than usual. But when the boy was going out of the door, and the friendly words were again repeated, he exclaimed, “Don’t make a fool of yourself, Peg. They want to give us a hint to send a basket of our pears; that’s the upshot of the business. You may send ’em a basket, when they are ripe; for I scorn to be under obligation, especially to your smooth-tongued folks.” Poor Peggy, whose arid life had been for the moment refreshed with a little dew of kindness, admitted distrust into her bosom, and the halo that radiated round the ripe glowing cherries departed. Not long after this advance towards good neighbourhood, some labourers employed by Simeon Green, passing over a bit of marshy ground, with a heavy team, stuck fast in a bog occasioned by long continued rain. The poor oxen were entirely unable to extricate themselves, and Simeon ventured to ask assistance from his waspish neighbour, who was working at a short distance. Reuben replied gruffly, “I’ve got enough to do to attend to my own business.” The civil request that he might be allowed to use his oxen and chains for a few moments being answered in the same surly tone, Simeon silently walked off, in search of a more obliging neighbour. The men, who were left waiting with the patient, suffering oxen, scolded about Reuben’s ill-nature, and said they hoped he would get stuck in the same bog himself. Their employer rejoined, “If he does, we will do our duty, and help him out.” “There is such a thing as being _too_ good-natured,” said they. “If Reuben Black takes the notion that people are afraid of him, it makes him trample on them worse than ever.” “Oh, wait a while,” replied Mr. Green, smiling, “I will kill him before long. Wait and see if I don’t kill him.” It chanced, soon after, that Reuben’s team did stick fast in the same bog, as the workmen had wished. Simeon observed it, from a neighbouring field, and gave directions that the oxen and chains should be immediately conveyed to his assistance. The men laughed, shook their heads, and said it was good enough for the old hornet. They, however, cheerfully proceeded to do as their employer had requested. “You are in a bad situation, neighbour,” said Simeon, as he came alongside of the foundered team. “But my men are coming with two yoke of oxen, and I think we shall soon manage to help you out.” “You may take your oxen back again,” replied Reuben; “I don’t want any of your help.”