low as to ask any one for food. I have always earned my food. The
trouble with you is that you are idle and dissolute. I can see it in
your face. I have worked and been honest. I have made myself what I
am. And you can do the same, if you work and are honest."

"Like you?" I queried.

Alas, no ray of humor had ever penetrated the sombre work-sodden soul
of that man.

"Yes, like me," he answered.

"All of us?" I queried.

"Yes, all of you," he answered, conviction vibrating in his voice.

"But if we all became like you," I said, "allow me to point out that
there'd be nobody to toss bricks for you."

I swear there was a flicker of a smile in his wife's eye. As for him,
he was aghast--but whether at the awful possibility of a reformed
humanity that would not enable him to get anybody to toss bricks for
him, or at my impudence, I shall never know.

"I'll not waste words on you," he roared. "Get out of here, you
ungrateful whelp!"

I scraped my feet to advertise my intention of going, and queried:--

"And I don't get anything to eat?"