“He that hath just enough can soundly sleep,
The o’ercome only fashes folk to keep.”
Clifford.—Ha! ha! sermons and poetry for pilgrims in the desert! But then arises the difficult question, what is it that constitutes that “just enough” which the poet holds to be the talisman of human happiness.
Grant.—Give economy fair play, and it will make that talisman out of anything.
Author.—And so, on the other hand, extravagance could never possess it, even if the subterranean treasures of Aladdin, or the diamond valley of Sinbad, were to be placed at its disposal.
Clifford.—Your allusion to the Arabian tales puts me in mind of our story-telling; and the subject we have now accidentally got upon brings to my recollection a remarkable story which you once related to me, Grant.
Grant.—You mean the legend of John Macpherson of Invereshie.
Clifford.—The same. Pray tell it to our friend here.
Grant.—If you, who have heard it before, have no objections to the repetition of it, I can have none to the telling of it.