. O'Grady's was really small. The dullard does not
want things which the man of lively imagination feels that he must have.
The sour man of gloomy disposition is forever haunted by the possibility
of misfortune. He hoards whatever pittance he may earn. Dr. O'Grady had
good spirits and a delightful confidence in life. He spent all, and more
than all he had, feeling sure that the near future held some great good
fortune for him--a deadly epidemic perhaps, which would send all the
people of Ballymoy flocking to his surgery, or a post under the new
Insurance Act The very qualities of mind which made him improvident
made him also immensely popular. Everybody liked him. Even his creditors
found it hard to speak harshly to him. He owed money to Doyle; but
Doyle, though as keen as any man living on getting what was due to him,
refrained from hurrying Dr. O'Grady over much. He grumbled a great deal,
but he allowed the account in the shop attached to the hotel to run on.
He even advanced sums of hard cash when some distant creditor, a Dublin
tailor, for instance, who did not appreciate the doctor's personal
charm, became importunate. Between what was due in the shop for tea,
sugar, whisky, tobacco, and other necessaries, and the money actually
lent, Dr. O'Grady owed Doyle rather more than L60. He owed Gallagher
more than L1, being five years' subscription to the Connacht Eagle. He
owed a substantial sum to Kerrigan, the butcher. He owed something to
every other shopkeeper in Ballymoy. The only people to whom he did not
owe money were Major Kent, Mr. Gregg, the District Inspector of Police,
and Mr. Ford, the stipendiary magistrate. No one could have owed money
to Mr. Ford because he was a hard and suspicious man who never lent
anything. Nobody could have borrowed from Mr. Gregg, because Mr. Gregg,
who had just got married, had no money to lend. Major Kent had a little
money and would have lent it to Dr. O'Grady, would, in fact, have given
it to him without any hope of ever getting it back again, but the
doctor refused to borrow from him. He had a conscientious objection to
victimising his personal friends. Doyle, so he explained, lived very
largely by lending money, and therefore offered himself as fair game to
the impecunious borrower. The shopkeepers throve on a system of credit.
They were fair game too. Major Kent was in a different case. To borrow
from him was to take a mean advantage of the good nature of a simple,
unprofession