“Why do you grumble at this pretty little fellow? See how graceful his movements are, and how cheerful is his countenance! Remember that everything has its use, and nothing is more useful than that which makes us cheerful, provided it is innocent. Even we warriors have need of cheerful excitement, for by this means we are better fitted to discharge our solemn duties. Let us not despise, then, even such sports, and amusements, and trifles, as come in our way, provided always that they are as harmless as the frisks and frolics of this little dancing-master of the meadow; and provided, too, that we never neglect business for pleasure.” Merry’s Life and Adventures. CHAPTER X. _A conversation about wealth and poverty.--People to be respected according to their character, not according to their circumstances._ As Paul Raymond was one of the best friends I ever had, it is my desire to make my reader well acquainted with him. He was tall, thin, and bent over, his figure seeming to indicate great humility; his face was meagre and exceedingly pale; his hair black as jet, and hanging in long, thin curls down his neck. His eye was very large, and of a deep blue. The whole aspect of my friend was marked with a childlike gentleness and timidity, though his high forehead and prominent Roman nose bespoke a manly intellect. A worldly person, judging only by outward form and a first sight, had passed him by with indifference; but one who looks upon mankind as beings of soul and mind, would have been attracted by his appearance. It was so in some degree with myself, for when I first saw poor Paul, as he was called in the village, I scarcely noticed him. And for years after, I saw nothing of particular interest in his person: but now that I was on a sick bed, and had opportunity, as well as occasion, to observe him closer, he seemed to me very interesting, both in looks and manner. It was one morning after he had been putting my room in order, and, taking his book, had sat down by my bedside, that I mentioned to Paul the change of feeling I had undergone in respect to himself. “I cannot but wonder,” said I, “how different you seem to me now, from what you used to do, Mr. Raymond.” _Raymond._ Call me Paul, boy, call me Paul! said he. We are friends now, and _mister_ is always a mischief-maker between friends. You say I seem different now from what I once did. The change is in you, not in me. I am the same poor Paul Raymond, as before. You are something better than before this accident happened. _Merry._ How am I better? I think I am worse: I have been guilty of folly, and, though thoughtlessly, of crime; I have been disgraced before the whole village; my poor arm broken; I am sick and emaciated; and after all this, you tell me that I am better than before.