And now he sees a man whose eyesight is bad endeavouring to thread a needle. "Allow me," cries the handy man, springing forward, and wrestling with the other for the needle and thread. Getting possession of these, in spite of the other's loud-spoken annoyance, he, instead of returning them, demands the article to be sewn. "No, thank you," says the other; "I can manage it myself." With much reluctance the handy man surrenders, and begs a pipeful of tobacco for threading the needle. But he still keeps his eye on the other, and when he sees him take up a shirt and a patch, the handy man again springs forward and in a loud voice commands the other to halt. "I," says he, "have a piece of stuff that exactly matches your shirt, whereas yours is far different." Snatching the shirt from the other's hand, he disappears for a moment, and then reappears with a piece of stuff that, it must be admitted, is a better match. The other, being well pleased at this, says: "If you don't mind waiting we will have a drink after I have done this job." The handy man, hearing this, and not feeling inclined to wait long, also thinking that an additional kindness would meet its reward in an additional drink, answers: "You had better let me do it, for by the way you hold the needle it is plain that you are not used to such work." The other, seeing that he has already given tobacco, and is compromised for a drink, is now quite willing to have the handy man's assistance. "Now," says he, when the job is done, where every stitch is seen to lie in its own deep valley surrounded by hills--"Now," says he, "all it requires is to be pressed with a hot flat-iron, after which you need not be ashamed to show it to the best tailor in the land. If you like, we will use the interval, while the iron is in the fire, for refreshment."