"Come, Bjerk," said he in a tone of good-
fellowship, which was not without its sting to the
idealistic republican, "you must take up a better
business than selling yesterday's `Tribune.'
That won't pay here, you know. Come along
to our office and I will see if something can't be
done for you."

"But I should be sorry to give you trouble,"
stammered Halfdan, whose native pride, even
in his present wretchedness, protested against
accepting a favor from one whom he had been
wont to regard as his inferior.

"Nonsense, my boy. Hurry up, I haven't
much time to spare. The office is only two
blocks from here. You don't look as if you
could afford to throw away a friendly offer."

The last words suddenly roused Halfdan from
his apathy; for he felt that they were true. A
drowning man cannot afford to make nice
distinctions--cannot afford to ask whether the
helping hand that is extended to him be that of
an equal or an inferior. So he swallowed his
humiliation and threaded his way through the
bewildering turmoil of Broadway, by the side
of his officious friend.

They entered a large, elegantly furnished