"So do I, maister," chimed in the tinker, interrupting Tim,—"so do I: but when one sees and hears of things that one knows to be wrong, one can hardly prevent one's sen, you know, from turning 'em over in one's mind, and trying to think how they could be righted. I'm not a man given to low spirits, mysen, maister; I contrive to keep my heart up, and go on; though I don't think the world's quite right, for all that." "I'm glad to hear what you said just now," continued Tim: "I assure you I've some little rough usage to bear; but I always find cheerfulness, and a disposition to make the best o'things, by far the wisest way of living." "So do I, maister," again burst in the tinker, very much to the annoyance of the tailor, who wanted to come to the end of his "say," without interruption—"so do I; only, you know there's no harm in talking about these things, now and then. And, besides, maister, you know, the world never will be any better, if we all shut our eyes, and say we see no wrong in it." "Right, very right," replied Tim, a little bit put out of the path he had intended to take, but still resolved to make direct for his point, if he could; "I don't deny that: but how long will it be before the world is bettered, even if we keep our eyes open, and tell aloud of all the wrong we know in it? You and I are not the first who have discovered the world to be wrong, depend on't. Tinkers and tailors," continued Tim, smiling as he proceeded, "have been found in many countries, as far as my little book-larning informs me, who have imagined they could repair the rents in the world; but, in too many cases, these fellows were the very greatest practisers upon the helplessness of their weaker brethren. As for the few who have been in earnest, they have usually been silenced, in one way or other, by those whose interest it was to keep up the wrong in the world. That the world never will be better," concluded Tim, "I will not undertake to say; but the day, I fear, is so far distant, my good friend, that you and I will neither of us be likely to live to see it. Don't take it amiss; but I can't help thinking so." The tinker was ready with an answer; but two customers of Tim's here came in, and the travelling tinker, thinking that it would be both ill-mannered and wearisome to the tailor for him to stay, and attempt to renew the conversation, wished Tim "Good day," and prepared to set out again on his journey. Tim extended his hand, and returned the tinker's friendly gripe in a way that told the traveller his few strong hints would be thought of on another day.