_Mr T._ (_in a tone of dolesomeness_). The heart knoweth where the shoe
pinches it, JOHNSON. My lot is not a rose-bed. For my antique and
eccentric relative must needs insert a testamentary condition commanding
me to forfeit the inheritance, unless, within three calendered months
from his last obsequies, I shall have distributed ten thousand pounds
amongst young deserving foreigners. To-morrow time is up, and I have
still a thousand pounds to give away! But how to discover genuine young
deserving foreigners in so short a space? Truly, I go in fear of losing
the whole!

_Mr J._ Let me act as your _budli_ in this and distribute the remaining
thousand.

_Mr T._ From what I remember of you as a youth, I cannot wholly rely on
your discretion. Rather would I place my confidence in this gentleman.

[_Indicating myself, who turned orange with pleasure._

_Mr J._ Indeed? And how know you that he may not adhere to the entire
thousand?

_Mr T._ And if he does, it is no matter, if he is a genuine deserving. I
can give the whole to him if I am so minded, and he need not give away a
penny of it unless inclined.

[_At which I was fit to dance with delight._

_Mr J._ I deny that you possess the power, seeing that he is a British
subject, and as such cannot be styled a "foreigner."

_Mr T._ There you have mooted a knotty point indeed. Alas, that we have
no forensic big-wig here to decide it!

_Myself_ (_modestly_). As a native poor student of English law, I
venture to think that, by dint of my legal attainments, I shall be
enabled to crack the Gordian nut. I am distinctly of opinion that an
individual born of dusky parents in a tropical climate _is_ a foreigner,
in the eye of British prejudice, and within the meaning of the testator.
[_And here I maintained my assertion by a logomachy of such brilliancy
and erudition that I completely convinced the minds of both auditors._

_Mr J._ (_grumblingly, to ~Mr TOMKINS~_). Assuming he is correct, why
favour _him_ more than _me_?

_Mr T._ Because instinct informs me that a gentleman with such a face as
his--however dusky--may be trusted, and with the untold gold!

_Mr J._ (_jealously_). And I am not to be trusted! If you were to hand
me your _portemonnaie_ now, full of notes and gold, and let me walk into
the street with it, do you doubt that I should return? Speak, TOMKINS!

_Mr T._ Assuredly not; but so, too, would this gentleman. (_To me, as
~Mr JOHNSON~ sneered a