Well, too, he knew, and had experienced it, that for a man desirous of avoiding notice, the more wretched the clothes, the better.
For who does not shun the scurvy wretch, Poverty, advancing in battered hat and lamentable coat?
Without more ado, slipping off the Squire's raiment, he donned the scarecrow's, after carefully shaking out the hay, which, from many alternate soakings and bakings in rain and sun, had become quite broken up, and would have been almost dust, were it not for the mildew which damped it.

But sufficient of this wretched old hay remained adhesive to the inside of the breeches and coat-sleeves, to produce the most irritating torment.
The grand moral question now came up, what to do with the purse.

Would it be dishonest under the circumstances to appropriate that purse?
Considering the whole matter, and not forgetting that he had not received from the gentleman deceased the promised reward for his services as courier, Israel concluded that he might justly use the money for his own.

To which opinion surely no charitable judge will demur.

Besides, what should he do with the purse, if not use it for his own?
It would have been insane to have returned it to the relations.
Such mysterious honesty would have but resulted in his arrest as a rebel, or rascal.