“I don’t doubt them. Then _in time_ I could, you know, change my trade—sell chips and sticks in the wood-market—hand about the lemonade to the fine folks, or twenty other things. There are trades enough, boy.” “Yes, for the honest dealer,” said Francisco, “but for no other; for in all of them you’ll find, as _my_ father says, that a good character is the best fortune to set up with. Change your trade ever so often, you’ll be found out for what you are at last.” “And what am I, pray?” said Piedro, angrily. “The whole truth of the matter is, Francisco, that you envy my good luck, and can’t bear to hear this money jingle in my hand. Ay, stroke the long ears of your ass, and look as wise as you please. It’s better to be lucky than wise, as _my_ father says. Good morning to you. When I am found out for what I am, or when the worst comes to the worst, I can drive a stupid ass, with his panniers filled with rubbish, as well as you do now, _honest Francisco_.” “Not quite so well. Unless you were _honest Francisco_, you would not fill his panniers quite so readily.”. This was certain, that Francisco was so well known for his honesty amongst all the people at Naples with whom his father was acquainted, that everyone was glad to deal with him; and as he never wronged anyone, all were willing to serve him—at least, as much as they could without loss to themselves: so that after the market was over, his panniers were regularly filled by the gardeners and others with whatever he wanted. His industry was constant, his gains small but certain, and he every day had more and more reason to trust to his father’s maxim—That honesty is the best policy. The foreign servant lad, to whom Francisco had so honestly, or, as Piedro said, so sillily, shown the bruised side of the melon, was an Englishman. He left his native country, of which he was extremely fond, to attend upon his master, to whom he was still more attached. His master was in a declining state of health, and this young lad waited on him a little more to his mind than his other servants. We must, in consideration of his zeal, fidelity and inexperience, pardon him for not being a good judge of fish. Though he had simplicity enough to be easily cheated once, he had too much sense to be twice made a dupe. The next time he met Piedro in the market, he happened to be in company with several English gentlemen’s servants, and he pointed Piedro out to them all as an arrant knave. They heard his cry of “Fresh fish! fresh fish! fine fresh fish!” with incredulous smiles, and let him pass, but not without some expressions of contempt, though uttered in English, he tolerably well understood; for the tone of contempt is sufficiently expressive in all languages. He lost more by not selling his fish to these people than he had gained the day before by cheating the _English booby_. The market was well supplied, and he could not get rid of his cargo.