me in
sight, and I was considering in what terms to make my request, a
parson and a lady on horseback turned into the road from a by-lane,
and when they had passed I heard a ripple of laughter from the
lady, no doubt in response to some jest from her companion on my
ridiculous appearance.

This set my blood a-boiling; I flung away in a rage, leapt a stile
into a field, and felt that I would rather starve than ask
assistance of a living soul. I sat down beneath a hedge, utterly
woebegone, and chewed the bitter cud of my misfortunes until for
sheer weariness I fell asleep.

When I awoke, the sun, which had shone brilliantly all day, was
already sloping to the west. My rage was gone now, and I cursed
myself for a fool. A pretty spirit I had shown indeed! What was I
good for if I could not bear a little ridicule?

"Let 'em laugh, and go hang!" I cried, and up I sprang, resolved to
accost the first person I met, whoever it might be, and at any rate
earn a crust.

I walked along the field, took a long draught from a clear brook
that crossed it, and coming into the road, spied a large house
lying some way back amid trees. True to my resolve, I made towards
it, entered an iron gate that stood open, and was marching up the
broad gravel walk leading to the house when I was checked by a
voice.

"Hi, you fellow, what do you want here?"

I turned, and saw a well-dressed boy of about my own age coming out
of a shrubbery into the walk. I stopped, feeling a certain
awkwardness, and stood before him, looking sheepish enough, no
doubt. He eyed me for a moment; then burst out a-laughing.

"You have no business here; get you gone, fellow," he said, when he
had recovered.

I gulped down the wrath that rose in me, and said quietly:

"I was but on my way to ask if I might do something to earn a meal
and a night's lodging."

He looked at me curiously, perceiving that in mode of speech I was
somewhat different from the low tramp I looked. But youth is often
impatient and hard; my appearance consorted so little with my
tongue that he had much excuse for regarding me as a ne'er-do-well,
the less deserving of pity because he probably owed his plight to
vicious courses.

"There's the poorhouse for tramps, and the lock-up for rascals," he
added. "Be off with you!"

"Pardon me, sir," said I, as quietly as before, "I have eaten
nothing for thirty hours or longer, and if you would but give me
speech with the master of the house, I do