s John
on the highway, although he had ceased from business, and was seeking a
Royal pardon.

Now is it according to human nature, or is it a thing contradictory
(as I would fain believe)? But anyhow, there was, upon Exmoor, no more
discontented man, no man more sure that he had not his worth, neither
half so sore about it, than, or as, John Fry was. And one thing he did
which I could not wholly (or indeed I may say, in any measure)
reconcile with my sense of right, much as I laboured to do John justice,
especially because of his roguery; and this was, that if we said too
much, or accused him at all of laziness (which he must have known to be
in him), he regularly turned round upon us, and quite compelled us
to hold our tongues, by threatening to lay information against us for
paying him too much wages!

Now I have not mentioned all this of John Fry, from any disrespect for
his memory (which is green and honest amongst us), far less from any
desire to hurt the feelings of his grandchildren; and I will do them the
justice, once for all, to avow, thus publicly, that I have known a great
many bigger rogues, and most of themselves in the number. But I have
referred, with moderation, to this little flaw in a worthy character (or
foible, as we call it, when a man is dead) for this reason only--that
without it there was no explaining John's dealings with Jeremy Stickles.

Master Jeremy, being full of London and Norwich experience, fell into
the error of supposing that we clods and yokels were the simplest of the
simple, and could be cheated at his good pleasure. Now this is not so:
when once we suspect that people have that idea of us, we indulge them
in it to the top of their bent, and grieve that they should come out of
it, as they do at last in amazement, with less money than before, and
the laugh now set against them.

Ever since I had offended Jeremy, by threatening him (as before related)
in case of his meddling with my affairs, he had more and more allied
himself with simple-minded John, as he was pleased to call him. John
Fry was everything: it was 'run and fetch my horse, John'--'John, are my
pistols primed well?'--'I want you in the stable, John, about something
very particular', until except for the rudeness of it, I was longing
to tell Master Stickles that he ought to pay John's wages. John for
his part was not backward, but gave himself the most wonderful airs of
secrecy and importance, till half the parish be