A few weeks sufficed to exhaust all of Mr. Parker's time-killing resources. The newspapers, he complained, did not contain any thing of interest now. Having retired on his money, and set up for something of a gentleman, he, after a little while, gave up visiting at the shops of his old fellow-tradesmen. He did not like to be seen on terms of intimacy with working people! Street-walking did very well at first, but he tired of that; it was going over and over the same ground. He would have ridden out and seen the country, but he had never been twice on horseback in his life, and felt rather afraid of his neck. In fact, nothing was left to him, but to lounge about the house the greater portion of his time, and grumble at every thing; this only made matters worse, for Mrs. Parker would not submit to grumbling without a few words back that cut like razors. From a contented man, Mr. Parker became, at the end of six months, a burden to himself. Little things that did not in the least disturb him before, now fretted him beyond measure. He had lost the quiet, even temper of mind that made life so pleasant. A year after he had given up business he met Mr. Steele for the first time since his retirement from the shop. "Well, my old friend," said that gentleman to him familiarly, "how is it with you now? I understand you have retired from business." "Oh yes; a year since." "So long? I only heard of it a few weeks ago. I have been absent from the city. Well, do you find doing nothing any easier than manufacturing good hats and serving the community like an honest man, as you did for years? What is _your_ experience worth?" "I don't know that it is worth any thing, except to myself; and it is doubtful whether it isn't too late for even me to profit by it." "How so, my friend? Isn't living on your money so pleasant a way of getting through the world as you had supposed it to be?" "I presume there cannot be a pleasanter way; but we are so constituted that we are never happy in any position." "Perhaps not positively happy, but we may be content." "I doubt it." "You were once contented." "I beg you pardon; if I had been, I would have remained in business." "And been a much more contented man than you are now." "I am not sure of that." "I am, then. Why, Parker, when I met you last you had a cheerful air about you. Whenever I came into your shop, I found you singing as cheerfully as a bird. But now you do not even smile; your brows have fallen half an inch lower than they were then. In fact, the whole expression of your face has changed. I will lay a wager that you have grown captious, fretful, and disposed to take trouble on interest. Every thing about you declares this. A year has changed you for the worse, and me for the better." "How you for the better, Mr. Steele!" "I have gone into business." "I hope no misfortune has overtaken you?" "I have lost more than half my property, but I trust this will not prove in the end a misfortune."