“Dang it, if it bean’t that chap who was on my apple-tree,” cried the farmer—“howsomever, he must not die for stealing a few apples; lift him up, lads, and take him in—he is dead with cold—no wonder.”
The farmer led the way, and the men carried Jack into the house, when the farmer gave him a glass of brandy; this restored Jack’s circulation, and in a short time he was all right again.
After some previous conversation, in which Jack narrated all that had happened, “What may be your name?” inquired the farmer.
“My name is Easy,” replied Jack.
“What, be you the son of Mr Easy, of Forest Hill?”
“Yes.”
“Dang it, he be my landlord, and a right good landlord too—why didn’t you say so when you were up in the apple-tree? You might have picked the whole orchard and welcome.”
“My dear sir,” replied Jack, who had taken a second glass of brandy, and was quite talkative again, “let this be a warning to you, and when a man proposes to argue the point, always, in future, listen. Had you waited, I would have proved to you most incontestably that you had no more right to the apples than I had; but you would not listen to argument, and without discussion we can never arrive at truth. You send for your dog, who is ripped up by the bull—the bull breaks his leg in a saw-pit—the bee-hives are overturned and you lose all your honey—your man John breaks his jaw—your maid Susan spoils all the bread—and why? because you would not allow me to argue the point.”
“Well, Mr Easy, it be all true that all these mishaps have happened because I would not allow you to argue the point, perhaps, although, as I rent the orchard from your father, I cannot imagine how you could have proved to me that the apples were not mine; but now, let’s take your side of the question, and I don’t see how you be much better off. You get up in a tree for a few apples, with plenty of money to buy them if you like—you are kept there by a dog—you are nearly gored by a bull—you are stung by the bees, and you tumble souse into a well, and are nearly killed a dozen times, and all for a few apples not worth twopence.”
“All very true, my good man,” replied Jack; “but you forget that I, as a philosopher, was defending the rights of man.”