The Story of the Supposed Miser.
A great many miles to the east is a country called France, in the southern part of which is a large city called Marseilles. In this place there once lived a man by the name of Guizot. He was always busy, and seemed very anxious to get money, either by his industry, or in some other way.
He was poorly clad, and his food was of the simplest and cheapest kind. He lived alone, and denied himself all the luxuries and many of the comforts of life.
He was honest and faithful, never taking that which was not his own, and always performing his promises; yet the people of Marseilles thought he was a miser, and they held him in great contempt. As he passed along the streets, the rich men looked on him with scorn, and the poor hissed and hooted at him. Even the boys would cry out, “There goes old Skinflint; there goes old Greedy Gizzard.”
But the old man bore all this insult with gentleness and patience. Day by day, he went to his labor, and day by day, as he passed through the crowd, he was saluted with taunts, and sneers, and reproaches.
Thus, time passed on, and poor Guizot was now more than eighty years of age. But he still continued the same persevering industry, still lived in the same saving, simple manner as before.
Though he was now bent almost double, and though his hair was thin and white as snow; though his knees tottered as he went along the streets; still the rude jokes and hisses of the throng pursued him wherever he went.
But, at length, the old man died, and it was ascertained that he had heaped together, in gold and silver, a sum equal to two hundred thousand dollars. On looking over his papers, his will was found, in which were the following words:
“I was once poor, and I observed that the poor people of Marseilles suffered very much for the want of pure, fresh water. I have devoted my life to the saving of a sum of money sufficient to build an aqueduct to supply the city of Marseilles with pure water, so that the poor may have a full supply.”