Looking upon the scarecrow more attentively, it struck him that,
miserable as its wardrobe was, nevertheless here was a chance for
getting rid of the unsuitable and perilous clothes of the Squire. No
other available opportunity might present itself for a time. Before he
encountered any living creature by daylight, another suit must somehow
be had. His exchange with the old ditcher, after his escape from the inn
near Portsmouth, had familiarized him with the most deplorable of
wardrobes. 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. As for the Squire's clothes, handkerchief, and