As his mower was the only one in the village, it was at once in great demand.

Everybody wanted to borrow it for a few days, and Butterwick lent it with such generosity that it was out most of the time, and a good many people had to wait for it.

At last there was quite a rivalry who should have it next, and the folks used to put in their claims with the owner whenever they had an opportunity.
One day Mr.Smith's wife died, and Mr.Butterwick attended the funeral.

Smith was nearly wild with grief.

As the remains were put into their last resting-place he cried as if his heart would break, and his friends began to get uneasy about his nervous system.
Presently he took his handkerchief from his eyes for a moment to rub his nose, and as he did so he saw Butterwick looking at him.