"I do not know if you recollect me," she replied at last, and then
added, "I am the lady who purchased a lot of furniture from you a few
weeks ago."

"I do not remember," Mr. Swartz observed, with a look of surprise.
"But vot can I to for you dis morning?"

"I am a soldier's wife," Mrs. Wentworth commenced hesitatingly. "My
husband is now a prisoner in the North, and I am here, a refugee from
New Orleans, with two small children. Until a short time ago I had
succeeded in supporting my little family by working on soldiers'
clothing, but the Quartermaster's department having ceased to
manufacture clothing, I have been for several days without work." Here
she paused. It pained her to continue.

Mr. Swartz looked at her with surprise, and the idea came into his
mind that she was an applicant for charity.

"Vell, vot has dat got to do vid your pisness," he observed in a cold
tone of voice, determined that she should see no hope in his face.

"This much," she replied. "For over twenty-four hours my two little
children and myself have been without food, and I have not a dollar to
purchase it."

"I can't do anything for you," Mr. Swartz said with a frown.

"Dere is scarce a day but some peoples or anoder vants charity and
I--"