Fleshy Martha scolded Trimble slowly and venomously, trying to fulfill her duty as a wife and make a man out of a rag, but achieved nothing. He is still the same: a creeping, shabby, spineless, cowardly hare and slug, this short, timid little man with a paunch. But one day Trimble saw a short old man with snow-white hair and a wrinkled face. The old man looked at him kindly and said that he could help Trimble.