“Your profession?”
“My profession! Ah, yes! you mean what do I do? I am a farmer.”
The lawyer, still smiling, wrote two lines on a piece of paper, folded it up, and gave it to his strange client.
“Is that all,” cried Bernard; “well, well! so much the better. I daresay you are too busy to write much. Now, how much does that cost, Mr. Lawyer?”
“Half-a-crown.”
Bernard paid the money, made his bow, and went away delighted that he had got an opinion.
When he reached home it was four in the afternoon; he was tired with his journey, and made up his mind to have a good rest. It happened, however, that his hay had been cut for some days, and was now completely dry; and one of his men came to ask if it should be carried in and housed that night.
“This night!” said the farmer’s wife. “Who ever heard of such a thing? Your master is tired, and the hay can just as well be got in to-morrow.” The man said it was no business of his, but the weather might change, and the horses and carts were ready, and the farm hands had nothing to do. To this the angry wife replied that the wind was in a favorable quarter, and that they could not any way get the work done before nightfall.
Bernard, having listened to both sides of the question, hesitated to decide, when suddenly he remembered the paper the lawyer had given him. “Stop a minute!” cried he, “I have an opinion—a famous opinion—an opinion that cost me half-a-crown. That’s the thing to put us straight. You are a grand scholar, my dear; tell us what it says.” His wife took the paper, and with some little difficulty, read out these two lines:—
Peter Bernard: Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.