looked up with an I-thought-you-were-gone expression on his face, and
demanded:--

"Well?"

"I ... I am waiting for something to eat," I said gently.

"I knew you wouldn't work!" he roared.

He was right, of course; but his conclusion must have been reached by
mind-reading, for his logic wouldn't bear it out. But the beggar at
the door must be humble, so I accepted his logic as I had accepted his
morality.

"You see, I am now hungry," I said still gently. "To-morrow morning I
shall be hungrier. Think how hungry I shall be when I have tossed
bricks all day without anything to eat. Now if you will give me
something to eat, I'll be in great shape for those bricks."

He gravely considered my plea, at the same time going on eating, while
his wife nearly trembled into propitiatory speech, but refrained.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said between mouthfuls. "You come to
work to-morrow, and in the middle of the day I'll advance you enough
for your dinner. That will show whether you are in earnest or not."

"In the meantime--" I began; but he interrupted.

"If I gave you something to eat now, I'd never see you again. Oh, I
know your kind. Look at me. I owe no man. I have never descended so