And Jack received this reply—“I have told you before, Jack, that these important truths will not at present be admitted—but it does not the less follow that they are true. This is the age of iron, in which might has become right—but the time will come when these truths will be admitted, and your father’s name will be more celebrated than that of any philosopher of ancient days. Recollect, Jack, that although in preaching against wrong and advocating the rights of man, you will be treated as a martyr, it is still your duty to persevere; and if you are dragged through all the horse-ponds in the kingdom, never give up your argument.”

“That I never will, sir,” replied Jack; “but the next time I argue it shall be, if possible, with power on my side, and, at all events, not quite so near a pond.”

“I think,” said Mrs. Easy, who had been a silent listener, “that Jack had better fish in the river, and then, if he catches no fish, at all events he will not be soused in the water, and spoil his clothes.”

But Mrs. Easy was no philosopher.

A few days afterwards, Jack discovered, one fine morning, on the other side of a hedge, a summer apple- tree bearing tempting fruit and he immediately broke through the hedge, and climbing the tree, as our first mother did before him, he culled the fairest and did eat.

“I say, you sir, what are you doing there?” cried a rough voice.

Jack looked down, and perceived a stout, thick-set personage in grey coat and red waistcoat, standing underneath him.

“Don’t you see what I’m about,” replied Jack, “I’m eating apples—shall I throw you down a few?”

“Thank you kindly—the fewer that are pulled the better; perhaps, as you are so free to give them to others as well as to help yourself, you may think that they are your own property!”

“Not a bit more my property than they are yours, my good man.”

“I guess that’s something like the truth; but you are not quite at the truth yet, my lad; those apples are mine, and I’ll trouble you to come down as fast as you please; when you’re down we can then settle our accounts; and,” continued the man, shaking his cudgel, “depend upon it you shall have your receipt in full.”

Jack did not much like the appearance of things.

“My good man,” said he, “it is quite a prejudice on your part to imagine that apples were not given, as well as all other fruit, for the benefit of us all—they are common property, believe me.”

“That’s a matter of opinion, my lad, and I may be allowed to have my own.”

“You’ll find it in the Bible,” says Jack.

“I never did yet, and I’ve read it through and through all, bating the ’Pocryfar.”

“Then,” said Jack, “go home and fetch the Bible, and I’ll prove it to you.”

“I suspect you’ll not wait till I come back again No, no; I have lost plenty of apples, and have long wanted to find the robbers out; now I’ve caught one I’ll take care that he don’t ’scape without apple-sauce, at all events—so come down, you young thief, come down directly—or it will be all the worse for you.”

“Thank you,” said Jack, “but I am very well here. I will, if you please, argue the point from where I am.”