"I did once give Farmer Dobson a hint about it," answered Barton, "but he says, that the hedge is not above nine years' growth, and that he shall have better poles by leaving it a few years longer."
"But you know very well," replied the magistrate, "that your warrant empowers you to require him to cut it, and if he refuses, to do it yourself at his expence."
"I know that well enough," said Barton, "but that would be so ill-natured and unneighbourly-neighbourly, that I could not bear to think of it."
"And so," rejoined Mr. Bentley, "the necks and limbs of his Majesty's subjects are to be endangered, and the whole neighbourhood put to inconvenience, for the credit of your good-nature? A man in a public office, Mr. Barton, should always execute the duties of that office with as much civility and kindness as possible; but he must never neglect his public duty, for the sake of gratifying any private individual whatever.—And look! what business has this dunghill here? your warrant tells you that nothing should be laid within fifteen feet of the middle of the road—and this dunghill is so close, that the road is ruined by the moisture proceeding from it. And see how the farmer has cut the road to pieces by drawing out his dung in the wet weather."
"To be sure, what you say is true, but the field won't be ready for the dung till the spring."
"Another sacrifice of the interests of the public to private convenience!—And here again—you'll think and call me a troublesome fellow, Mr. Barton—but why do you suffer these heaps of stones to be so forward in the road? They are absolutely dangerous."
"Why the men who work on the road like to have them handy."
"As they are paid by the day it can make no difference to them, and even if it did, you must not endanger the safety of travellers from a good-natured wish to humour your workmen—I suppose the same reason induces you to allow them to put in the stones without breaking them?"
Barton acknowledged that it was. Mr. Bentley charged him again not to let his good-nature make him forget his duty to the public—"But," added he laughing, "perhaps I must confess that it is some feeling of the same sort, which keeps me from fining you five pounds, as I might and ought to do, for these neglects of your duty as surveyor."
They now reached the town, and happening to use the same inn, rode into the yard together. Fowler and his wife, who were already there, augured well from this circumstance—and Mr. Bentley was hardly off his horse, when Nanny accosted him in a wheedling tone, with, "I hope, Sir, you'll be so kind as to stand our friend about this licence."