“As to what he meant, God only knows; but I know what he did.”
“And what did he?”
“Nothing at all for the poor.”
“If any of them applied to him, no doubt—”
“Oh! they knew better than all that comes to; for if they asked for anything, he was sure to have them sent to Bridewell, or the workhouse. He used to say, ‘The workhouse was a fine place for a poor man—the food good enough, and enough of it;’ yet he kept a dainty table himself. His dogs, too, fared better than we poor. He was vastly tender and good to all his horses and dogs, I will say that for him; and to all brute beasts: he would not suffer them to be either starved or struck—but he had no compassion for his fellow-creatures.”
“I am sensible you do him wrong.”
“That he is the best judge of by this time. He has sent many a poor man to the house of correction; and now ’tis well if he has not got a place there himself. Ha, ha, ha!”
The man was walking away, when Henry called to him—“Pray can you tell me if the bishop’s son be at the palace?”
“Oh, yes! you’ll find master there treading in the old man’s shoes, as proud as Lucifer.”
“Has he any children?”