An uncommon instance of this kind occurred one summer's morning, which for many weeks discontinued the inquiries at the butcher's shop after the allowance of neck-beef; and, while it offered a change in their mode of living, gratified their darling avarice, and insatiable propensity to save money. It happened one morning, as Mr. Dancer was taking his usual walk upon the common, to pick up bones, sticks, or any bit of rag or other matter that might go towards repairing his clothes or his house, that he found a sheep, which had apparently died from natural disease, and most probably was in a putrid state. This was a rare prize for Mr. Dancer; and, incredible as it may appear, he took it up, and bore it home on his shoulder in triumph to his sister, who received it as the immediate gift of heaven, to bless their _poor souls_ with a change of food; for they had not for years tasted any thing like it; and now they were likely to feast for a great length of time uncontrolled, and at no expense neither, which was the most delicate _sauce_ that could accompany such a delicious morsel as carrion mutton to the appetite of a miser. [Illustration] It was immediately skinned, and cut up, and the fat carefully laid aside, and an immense number of pies made of it, with proper seasoning; so that Mr. Dancer's house, for a while, resembled a Perigord pie-maker's shop, preparing to pack up for exportation. On these they feasted with their accustomed frugality for several weeks, until the whole were exhausted. It is even said that Miss Dancer importuned Mr. Dancer to send two handsome ones to Mr. James Taylor, the Borough usurer. When a miser finds a treasure, he is sure to lock it up. Whether Mr. Dancer thought his sister extravagant in the indulgence of her stomach at the beginning of the _pie-feast_, or whether it was his pleasure at the thought of living at a small expense, or at the change of diet the pies supplied, he became unusually careful of them at last, and locked them up in one of his strong coffers. The truth of this, the following anecdote will illustratively supply. The neighbours one morning observing Miss Dancer rather lower spirited than usual, kindly inquired into the cause, when after some hesitation, she acknowledged, that her brother Daniel had scolded her for eating too much of the mutton pies, and told her she was very extravagant, which she observed, with tears in her eyes, was an exceeding hard case, as she loved to save as well as himself; but what vexed her more, he had locked them up in his strong trunk, in order to make them last longer, not trusting her with the key. Miss Dancer, upon the whole, seems to have been a very proper companion for her brother; for it would have been a difficult case to have matched him any where for savingness.