Not exactly so with Tom. Despite his lameness, he was rather a jolly fellow, still. He did his duty all day—but at night, he regularly came to Lissa, and provoked her into a game of romps. Lissa was now a young lady, and a black-eyed young man came to see her almost every night. Tom was jealous at first—but finding that Lissa liked the young man, as in duty bound, he began to like him too.
At last Lissa and her lover were married. They went to live in a house of their own, and Tom went with them. He was a marked cat, you may be sure. Everybody noticed his limp, and asked questions about him. This led Lissa and her husband to tell his story, and to praise him. So Tom came to be very celebrated, and a universal favorite. His limp actually made his fortune; and the reason was, that instead of growling and snarling about it, he made the best of everything, did his duty, and was good-tempered, industrious and faithful. So it seems that even a natural defect may, by good will and good sense, be turned to good fortune.
Poor Phil was once a blithe Canary—
But then his mate was at his side;
His spirits never seemed to vary,
Till she, one autumn evening, died.
And now upon his perch he clung,
With ruffled plumes and spirits low,
His carol hushed, or if he sung,