And so saying, Farmer Gray hurried off, towards his cornfield.  When he arrived there, he found four large hogs tearing down the stalks, and pulling off and eating the ripe ears of corn.  They had already destroyed a good deal.  But he drove them out very calmly, and put up the bars through which they had entered, and then commenced gathering up the half-eaten ears of corn, and throwing them out into the lane for the hogs, that had been so suddenly disturbed in the process of obtaining a liberal meal.  As he was thus engaged, Mr. Barton, who had from his own house seen the farmer turn the hogs out of his cornfield, came hurriedly up, and said,

“I am very sorry, Mr. Gray, indeed I am, that my hogs have done this!  I will most cheerfully pay you for what they have destroyed.”

“Oh, never mind, Friend Barton—­never mind.  Such things will happen, occasionally.  My geese, you know, annoy you very much, sometimes.”

“Don’t speak of it, Mr. Gray.  They didn’t annoy me half as much as I imagined they did.  But how much corn do you think my hogs have destroyed?  One bushel, or two bushels? or how much?  Let it be estimated, and I will pay for it most cheerfully.”

“Oh, no.  Not for the world, Friend Barton.  Such things will happen sometimes.  And, besides, some of my men must have left the bars down, or your hogs could never have got in.  So don’t think any more about it.  It would be dreadful if one neighbour could not bear a little with another.”

All this cut poor Mr. Barton to the heart.  His own ill-natured language and conduct, at a much smaller trespass on his rights, presented itself to his mind, and deeply mortified him.  After a few moments’ silence, he said,

“The fact is, Mr. Gray, I shall feel better if you will let me pay for this corn.  My hogs should not be fattened at your expense, and I will not consent to its being done.  So I shall insist on paying you for at least one bushel of corn, for I am sure they have destroyed that much, if not more.”

But Mr. Gray shook his head and smiled pleasantly, as he replied,

“Don’t think anything more about it, Neighbour Barton.  It is a matter deserving no consideration.  No doubt my cattle have often trespassed on you and will trespass on you again.  Let us then bear and forbear.”

All this cut the shoemaker still deeper, and he felt still less at ease in mind after he parted from the farmer than he did before.  But on one thing he resolved, and that was, to pay Mr. Gray for the corn which his hogs had eaten.

“You told him your mind pretty plainly, I hope,” said Mrs. Gray, as her husband came in.

“I certainly did,” was the quiet reply.

“And I am glad you had spirit enough to do it!  I reckon he will think twice before he kills any more of my geese!”

“I expect you are right, Sally.  I don’t think we shall be troubled again.”

“And what did you say to him?  And what did he say for himself?”