His habit of yielding had been formed; he did
not like to be bored; could not bear to refuse; could not stand
importunity; and almost invariably yielded to the demands made upon his
purse. While his money lasted, he had no end of friends. He was a
universal referee--everybody's bondsman. "Just sign me this little bit
of paper," was a request often made to him by particular friends, "What
is it?" he would mildly ask; for, with all his simplicity, he prided
himself upon his caution! Yet he never refused. Three months after, a
bill for a rather heavy amount would fall due, and who should be called
upon to make it good but everybody's friend--the man who couldn't say
"No."
At last a maltster, for whom he was bondsman--a person with whom he had
only a nodding acquaintance--suddenly came to a stand in his business,
ruined by heavy speculations in funds and shares; when the man who
couldn't say "No" was called upon to make good the heavy duties due to
the Crown. It was a heavy stroke, and made him a poor man. But he never
grew wise. He was a post against which every needy fellow came and
rubbed himself; a tap, from which every thirsty soul could drink; a
flitch, at which every hungry dog had a pull; an ass, on which every
needy rogue must have his ride; a mill, that ground everybody's corn but
his own; in short, a "good-hearted fellow," who couldn't for the life of
him say "No.
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