The meal being over, Israel offered to buy from the farmer his best suit of clothes, and displayed the money on the spot.
"Where did you get so much money ?" said his entertainer in a tone of surprise; "your clothes here don't look as if you had seen prosperous times since you left me.

Why, you look like a scarecrow." "That may well be," replied Israel, very soberly.

"But what do you say?
will you sell me your suit ?--here's the cash." "I don't know about it," said the farmer, in doubt; "let me look at the money.

Ha!--a silk purse come out of a beggars pocket!--Quit the house, rascal, you've turned thief." Thinking that he could not swear to his having come by his money with absolute honesty--since indeed the case was one for the most subtle casuist--Israel knew not what to reply.

This honest confusion confirmed the farmer, who with many abusive epithets drove him into the road, telling him that he might thank himself that he did not arrest him on the spot.
In great dolor at this unhappy repulse, Israel trudged on in the moonlight some three miles to the house of another friend, who also had once succored him in extremity.