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Their cottage stood on a rising ground, at some short distance from a
village, which lay in a hollow valley, that was about half a mile in
breadth. This valley, in past ages, when the world was new, had
probably been the bed of a lake. There, fishes had glided to and fro in
the depths, and water-weeds had grown along the margin, and trees and
hills had seen their reflected images in the broad, and peaceful mirror.
But, as the waters subsided, men had cultivated the soil, and built
houses on it, so that it was now a fertile spot, and bore no traces of
the ancient lake, except a very small brook, which meandered through the
midst of the village, and supplied the inhabitants with water. The
valley had been dry land so long, that oaks had sprung up, and grown
great and high, and perished with old age, and been succeeded by others;
as tall and stately as the first. Never was there a prettier or more
fruitful valley. The very sight of the plenty around them should have
made the inhabitants kind and gentle, and ready to show their gratitude
to Providence by doing good to their fellow-creatures.

But, we are sorry to say, the people of this lovely village were not
worthy to dwell in a spot on which Heaven had smiled so beneficently.
They were a very selfish and hard-hearted people, and had no pity for
the poor, nor sympathy with the homeless. They would only have laughed,
had anybody told them that human beings owe a debt of love to one
another, because there is no other method of paying the debt of love and
care which all of us owe to Providence. You will hardly believe what I
am going to tell you. These naughty people taught their children to be
no better than themselves, and used to clap their hands, by way of
encouragement, when they saw the little boys and girls run after some
poor stranger, shouting at his heels, and pelting hum with stones. They
kept large and fierce dogs, and whenever a traveller ventured to show
himself in the village street, this pack of disagreeable curs scampered
to meet him, barking, snarling, and showing their teeth. Then they
would seize him by his leg, or by his clothes, just as it happened; and
if he were ragged when he came, he was generally a pitiable object
before he had time to run away. This was a very terrible thing to poor
travellers, as you may suppose, especially when they chanced to be sick,
or feeble, or lame, or old. Such persons (if they once knew how badly
these unkind people, and their unkind children and curs, were in the
habit of behaving) would go miles and miles out of their way, rather
than try to pass through the village again.

What made the matter seem worse, if possible, was that when rich persons
came in their chariots, or riding on beautiful horses, with their
servants in rich liveries attending on them, nobody could be more civil
and obsequious than the inhabitants of the village. They would take off
their hats, and make the humblest bows you ever saw. If the children
were rude, they were pretty certain to get their ears boxed; and as for
the dogs, if a single cur in the pack presumed to yelp, his master
instantly beat him with a club, and tied him up without any supper.
This would have been all very well, only it proved that the villagers
cared much about the money that a stranger had in his pocket, and
nothing whatever for the human soul, which lives equally in the beggar
and the prince.