However, my friend sat down and wrote the letters for me; and, in the meantime, Master Zed came in already dressed in his new apparel. I had not waited to see his choice of habiliments, but had restricted the shopkeeper--storekeeper, I should have said, God bless the mark! there are no shopkeepers here--to a certain amount; and unquestionably my new man's appearance somewhat startled me. He had got on a plum-coloured frock or tunic coat, with a velvet collar almost red; a pair of Windsor gray--I might almost say light blue pantaloons; a decidedly bright blue cravat; and a shirt-collar so high, so prominent, so extensive in every direction, that I could not but fear that the poor man's round ball of a head would some day disappear in it, white wool and all. He seemed, however, perfectly satisfied with the effect; and I could see him cast sundry glances at a tall looking-glass between the windows, which reflected an image such as is rarely seen upon this globe. True, if he were happy, I had no reason to be discontented; and happy he evidently was, poor man, though I fancy some shirts and stockings had been sacrificed, out of the amount of his equipment, to the splendour of the coat, the cravat, and the pantaloons. Not the least did he presume upon his finery; but, with a most deferential air, inquired what time I should be ready to start on the following morning, humbly suggesting that my horses' fore-feet would be better if shoed and pared, especially at some parts of the road not being of the best, and blacksmiths' shops being few and far between, it would be wise to set out all right, with a nail or two and a hammer in one of the saddlebags. Zed's precautions seemed to be not amiss; and this indication of care and forethought appeared a good augury; so I gave him some money to buy what he wanted, and dismissed him. "They are good creatures," said Mr. Wheatley, looking up from his letter, "capable of strong affections and strong attachments; but child-like, and requiring constant supervision and care. Now this very man, who has been so thoughtful on a matter in regard to which right notions have been drummed into him by long habit, would make the most egregious, the most absurd, and sometimes the most distressing blunders in regard to things out of his routine. There are two propensities, however, of which the race is rarely ever free--to pilfer and to lie. The pilfering is usually confined to petty articles; and it would really seem as if they reasoned with themselves upon the matter, judging that what they take will please and benefit them more than the loss will pain or injure you. The lie, too, has its bounds and restrictions; it is like the lie of a child, issuing from fear or from the wish of giving pleasure or amusement."